


Sweetheart, We're Part of the Two Percent

by StrawberryCheesecake (bhunks)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abuse of italics, Alternate Universe - High School, Background Relationships, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-21 15:39:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 74,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14918120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bhunks/pseuds/StrawberryCheesecake
Summary: This fic has already been completed. It will all be uploaded before Season 6 drops.(Fic title comes from the statistic that about 2% of high school sweethearts get married!)Keith's not entirely sure how or why Lance came into his life, but he can't really say he regrets it. He just didn't realize how much would change because of that.In which Keith realizes his feelings long before Lance does, and their friends hate them both for it.





	1. Wilson (Expensive Mistakes)

**Author's Note:**

> The chapter titles are songs I like. Sometimes they have to do with the chapter, sometimes they don't. I just like recommending songs :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) by Fall Out Boy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wH-by1ydBTM

Keith adjusted his glasses and stared at his computer, trying to figure out what order to put the swim team candids in. Which shots was he going to submit? What order? Who would he feature? He tugged at the sleeves of his jacket anxiously. The newspaper needed star athletes to feature by tomorrow morning, and Mrs. Alfie wouldn’t let him turn in late pictures.

He just needed to figure out who to feature as the junior girl and the senior boy. Pidge already helped him with the freshmen and sophomores. Most of them were basketball and wrestling kids, but only two of them were from the swim team. There were plenty of cheerleader pictures, and some, he’d starred and saved in the yearbook folder.

He had out two pictures that he was debating for the senior boy, but he’d mostly decided on the junior girl. Shay Balmera, a shy girl on the basketball team. She was also in the botany club, the yearbook club, the culinary club, plus a bunch of art classes, which only made it easier to write her article. 

As for the senior boy- it was between wrestling champion Nicky Somer, and the varsity swimmer, Lance McClain. Both of them would’ve made good articles. Nicky was on the wrestling team and an excellent mechanic. He was in the woodshop class and took a full IB workload. He planned to go into welding school, or to work in a car shop. 

Lance was playing varsity sports all year. He did lacrosse in the fall, swim in the winter, and soccer in the spring. During sophomore year, he’d doubled up on track and soccer. That was the first time he was the star athlete in the school newspaper. He had four AP classes his senior year- Spanish, Statistics, Biology, and Chemistry. He took up lacrosse in the fall of junior year, when boys’ soccer was moved to be a spring sport and became coed.

Keith wrote Lance’s name down in the box for the star athlete, leaned back in his chair, and X’d out the tab. He stowed his reading glasses in their case and briefly wondered where Pidge was before deciding to start his English essay.

Unfortunately, the moment he titled said essay, Pidge walked into the computer lab. “Keith, hurry up. I wanna go home and tell Matt about how awful Iverson is.”

“Like Matt hasn’t heard you complain about him enough. What’d he do today, make you jog?” Keith scoffed. He ignored Pidge’s glare, cracked his back, and pulled on his backpack after shutting off the computer. “Okay, let’s go. I  _ assume _ you want a ride home?”

“Yeah, buddy. Come on, I want to leave. Iverson was being even more of a dick than usual.” Keith stopped by his locker and pulled the green helmet he kept as an extra in there for Pidge out. She pretended not to see it. She had been hoping, admittedly in vain, that he had driven the car to school today.

As soon as they stepped into the student parking lot, Pidge buried her face in her hands. “Oh, no. I have to ride on it.”

“Yep,” Keith said, grinning broadly. “You have to ride on it.”

Pidge hated nothing- well, very close to nothing- more than Keith’s motorcycle. She hated the “impracticality”, the “danger”, the “inefficiency”. If someone mentioned  _ the motorcycle _ , she immediately began preaching about the sins of bipedal vehicles. 

“It’s Tuesday! Shiro doesn’t work today!”

“I felt like riding my bike,” Keith answered, shrugging. They both climbed on.

Keith revved the engine and felt Pidge’s grip tighten. “Don’t you fucking  _ dare _ , Kogane!” She screeched, but her words were lost in the increasingly loud wind whipping around her hair.

He laughed when he realized he could feel her heartbeat going crazy against his back, even through the red jacket. She was terrified of the motorcycle, and he  _ really _ enjoyed torturing her with it.

When they stopped in front of the Holts’ house, Pidge slid off as soon as she could. Keith hopped off his bike and stood next to her, barely holding back a laugh. “How was the ride?”

She punched his arm, which hurt despite her size. “I fucking  _ hate _ you!  I swear to  _ God _ , Keith… You’re lucky my mom and dad love you. I would’ve killed you by now if they didn’t!”

“Whoa, Pidge, murder is a _little_ below  you.” He frowned, stroking his chin like he had a beard. “Besides, you don’t even believe in God!”

“Neither do you,” Pidge retorted, unlocking her door.

Keith paused. “Fair point.”

She swung the door wide open, dramatically gesturing  _ Ladies first _ , and Keith smiled and bowed deeply, filing into the house.

Colleen and Samuel Holt were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, with their legs entwined, reading different magazines. Mr. Holt was reading  _ Popular Science _ , and Mrs. Holt was reading a different PopSci magazine.

“Hi, Keith,” Mr. Holt said, looking up and waving. “How was school?”

“Same old,” Keith said. “Lots of pictures to be taken. Lots of Pidge’s antics to put up with.”

“Cause he’s a giant nerd,” Pidge said. 

“Katie, be nice,” Mrs. Holt scolded. “We love Keith, whether he’s a giant nerd or not.”

“Speak for yourself. He made me ride the  _ motorcycle _ home.”

“You could’ve walked!” Keith said defensively.

Pidge scoffed. “Yeah, right. As if I didn’t already overexert myself in Iverson’s class. Mom, who’s home?”

“Your brother and  _ your _ brother,” Mrs. Holt said, pointing her finger at Pidge and then Keith without looking away from her magazine.

“Still?” Keith checked his watch. “It’s six o’clock.”

“They’re working on that project for GU. Not totally sure what it is.”

Pidge motioned for Keith to follow her upstairs. They came to Matt’s room, and Pidge swung open the door quickly and shouted, “Hello, geek boys!”

“Katie, keep it down,” Matt groaned. “We were on a roll.”

“Hey, Keith,” Shiro said.

“Hi, Shiro,” Keith replied. “How’s the project going?”

“Good, actually. Matt and I were tasked with creating a prototype for a new astronaut suit, and-”

“He doesn’t care, Shiro, he was being polite,” Matt deadpanned. “Katie, if you don’t leave-”

“Call me Pidge, or don’t say my name-”

“Pidgeotto, you’ve gotta-”

“Jesus  _ shit _ , Matt, only  _ Lance _ calls me Pidgey names-”

“Watch your language-!”

“Guys, as much as I enjoy sibling rivalry or rivalry of any kind, Matt and I have a lot of work to do because this is due in two days,” Shiro interrupted.

“We get distracted easily,” Matt said. “There’s still at least another three hours to go.”

Shiro snorted and gestured to their project. “Evidently.”

Keith’s ear started ringing and he felt a little dizzy. “Shiro, how much longer are you gonna be here?” Keith asked.

“Maybe a couple hours. Why?”

Keith felt a headache coming on. “All right. I’m gonna, uh, head out. I have things to do. Homework, yearbook, newspaper. The works.”

“See you, Keith!” Pidge said.

Keith went downstairs and said goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Holt. He jogged to his bike, and went to the gym. He didn’t go home, to his homework or a million other deadlines he should’ve been working on, like his English presentation. Not that he would’ve been able to focus- the headache turned into almost a migraine when he parked in the gym lot.

It didn’t stop him from staying on the treadmill for about thirty minutes, emptying two water bottles, and then going to the weights. 

Keith didn’t like leg day. He preferred abdominal workouts or working on his arms. Upper body strength was important. But he also didn’t want to skip leg day.

He did an ab workout after the treadmill anyway. Even after another three water bottles, his headache got worse.

___________________________________

  
The next morning, Shiro was the one who woke him up.

“Your alarm didn’t go off!” Shiro said frantically, shaking Keith awake.

Keith squinted at the clock, which read  _ 6:57. _

“Shiro, you moron,” Keith groaned. “I don’t wake up until 7.”

Shiro stopped panicking, but the puzzled expression didn’t leave his face. “School starts at 7:30,” Shiro said slowly.

“Yeah?” Keith flopped back into his bed. “Cool. I drive there, remember? I don’t have to worry about the bus, which leaves in negative six minutes.”

Shiro gaped at him. “You wake up half an hour before first period starts?”

“I’m almost late a lot,” Keith admitted. “But I’ve only been tardy three times.” His eyes stayed closed.

“You’ve been tardy?” Shiro asked, narrowing his eyes. “Why didn’t the school call me?”

“They call around 4:30 with the late notices,” Keith said, groaning and stretching. He squinted at Shiro. “You’re at work until five Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, or you’re in class.”

Shiro frowned. Keith winced and realized he’d hit a nerve. Shiro never said anything, but he felt bad about not being able to be home often. Keith could feel Shiro struggling to find something to say.

“It’s okay, Shiro. I’m still going to classes, and my grades are up,” he assured him. “Trust me, nothing’s gonna happen.”

“The system could’ve taken you away,” Shiro said tightly. “They almost did four years ago, remember? I’m not your biological brother. They didn’t have to let you stay with me.”

Keith crossed his arms. “They didn’t take me away then, they didn’t take me away a few months ago, and I turned 18 in October. They can’t do shit. And we still have money from Mom and Dad and the settlement. We’ll be fine.”

Shiro just turned around. “Okay. Go to school, Keith.”

Which left Keith feeling a lot guiltier than he should’ve been.

He made sure to get into first period five minutes before the bell rang, still thinking about that conversation. He used to skip all the time when he was 15- and he never thought about how it could affect his and Shiro’s living arrangements. He was lucky he was never put on the truancy list. His social worker definitely would’ve put him in a different home. He was lucky Shiro was such an excellent high school senior.

At lunch, he met up with Pidge in Mr. Hutch’s computer lab. Neither of them usually ate lunch- Keith was lazy, and lunch was too early. Pidge was focused on doing homework at school so she didn’t have to do it at home. Keith picked up that habit last year. Today, Mr. Hutch is gone, so it’s just Pidge, Keith, and a couple other computer kids.

Ten minutes into the period, she slowly turned her chair to swivel at him. “So, listen…”

“What?” Keith asked suspiciously.

“Uh,  _ some _ people might visit today. Not for long, though. Hunk, of course. And Lance. But it’s cool, right?”

Keith just kept looking at her. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Hunk and I have an AP Bio project together. Lance and Hunk always hang out during lunch. Plus, Keith, there are  _ swivel chairs _ in here. And Lance has work to do with Hunk. It’s just easiest.”

Keith scowled. “Whatever. I’ll just keep doing my homework, and he can keep doing his. Or whatever he does during lunch.”

“You know how high-energy Lance is?”

Keith groaned. Lance  _ hated _ him. He would probably bug Keith all period, just because Keith annoyed him for  _ whatever  _ reason. “He hates me, Pidge.”

“He doesn’t  _ hate _ you. Stop being dramatic.” She snorted to herself. “And he didn’t always hate you.”

“What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?”

“Never mind, Keith,” she said, sighing again and adjusting her glasses.

Sure enough, three minutes later, Lance slammed open the computer lab door. Keith already had an annoyed expression on his face. Pidge glared, as if to say,  _ Play nice. _

“Pidgeotto!” Lance said. “Missed you! Mullet, not so much. Maybe in negative thirty years.”

“Clever,” Keith said dryly, and then he continued working on his Physics homework. He didn’t want to deal with Lance or Lance’s antics. He rarely had to see Lance all of junior year- why couldn’t that continue?

Lance sat on the swivel chair next to Keith with his legs on either side of the back, instead of sitting like a normal person. “Hey, Keith,” Lance said. “What’re you doing?”

“Homework.”

Lance scooted the chair closer to him. “Hmm. Looks hard. I could probably do it in less time than you.” Lance popped a chip in his mouth.

“Be my guest.”

“I’d rather watch you struggle,” Lance said absentmindedly, already looking around the room like anything and everything was more interesting than it had ever been before.

“Do you even take Physics?” Keith asked icily.

“No, but I took it last year. I still remember everything, too.”

“Honors or AP?” Keith couldn’t help it. He wanted to beat Lance. He wanted him to shut his stupid mouth. He didn’t like to say that he was in AP classes, but Lance had a special ability to get on his nerves. Plus, he was already stressed over the conversation about Shiro losing him, and how close he came to losing Shiro freshmen year.

Lance hesitated. “AP.”

“What’d you score on the AP test?”

Lance rolled his eyes. “At least one full point more than  _ you _ will in five months.”

Keith huffed. “Yeah, right. Try me. What did you get?”

Lance sighed and ragdolled on the computer desk. “4.”

“4?” Keith hadn’t been expected that. Lance was an idiot every time he talked to him. Which, in the last year in a half, had probably been ten times. He’d been expecting a 2. “Well… I’ll get a 5. A full point better than  _you_. _"_

It was so out of character, so awkward that Keith had said that. He cringed internally.  _ Really, Kogane?  _ Was that the best he could do? He saw Lance’s expression-  _ bewildered _ was a good word for it. Keith’s tongue felt like it was swelling.  _ Just stop talking. Stop fucking talking and things will be okay. _ He felt so stupid. It was stupid to get anxious over this, especially since he was the  _ only _ one who took these things so seriously-

Lance burst into laughter. “Wow, Keith. Really?”

Keith was at a loss for words. It  _ was _ extremely lame. Pidge and Hunk were talking about their project, but Pidge turned and shot Lance a dirty look. “Shut it, Lance, or laugh quieter.”

Keith glared, too. “Shut up. I can get a 5.”

Lance snorted. “Come on. You know that only like, 5% of the people who took Physics 1 got a 5 last year, right?”

Keith shrugged, trying to pass off his embarrassment with indifference. “Maybe it’ll be 6% this year. Who knows? Can’t you let me do my homework?”

“Don’t you know that’s for home?”

“Don’t you know how irritating you are?” Keith shot back.

Lance wheeled closer to Keith. “You tell me every time I talk to you.” Was that a bitter tone? He rolled up a piece of paper and threw it straight into the recycling bin. “Bet you can’t make that.”

Keith huffed in annoyance and turned to his homework. 

And then Lance tossed a rolled up piece of paper and it bounced off Keith’s head.

Keith whipped around so fast, he was sure his neck almost snapped. “Did you just _throw_ that at me?”

“Better than you could throw it at  _ me _ ,” Lance said, shrugging. “But you could at least  _ try _ to prove you can show me up.”

Angrily, Keith flipped his binder so he could rip a piece of paper out from the back. He rolled it into as small a ball as he could, and threw it at the recycling bin. It bounced off the wall.

“Mine didn’t bounce,” Lance said smugly. “It went straight in.  _ Swish _ .”

“I made the basket. Does it matter?” Keith asked. He was starting to get annoyed.

Lance stood up and walked back five feet. “I bet I can make it from back here.”

Keith smirked. “You can certainly try.”

Lance stood on his tiptoes and did an overly dramatic throw like he was a basketball star. The paper bounced off the corner of the wall, but it  _ did _ go in the recycling bin.

Keith immediately stood up and walked to where Lance was, crumpling up a piece of paper as he did so. “It’s not that hard,” Keith said, but his landed a couple inches to the left of the recycling bin.

Lance just smirked.

“2 out of 3,” Keith challenged. “You got lucky.”

They wasted the rest of the lunch period, going to different positions around the room, determined to get baskets the other couldn’t.

____________________________

  
“Hey, Mrs. Alfie,” Keith said. Unfortunately, someone else was with her. “Oh. And, uh, hey… Mr. Smythe.”

“Hello, Keith,” Mr. Smythe said. He waved him over. “You’re the leader of the yearbook club now, right?”

“I think the official word is head, but yeah. Seeing as I’m the only senior and the other five members are freshmen and sophomores.” He scratched his nose nervously.  _ Shay and Plaxum are juniors. _ But wouldn’t it be awkward to add that part? It’s already been a couple seconds since he said anything, maybe he shouldn’t-

“New blood,” Mrs. Alfie said sweetly. 

Mr. Smythe grinned widely. “Well, congratulations all the same, Keith! I’m proud of you, you know.”

Keith felt embarrassed.  _ Are you kidding me? Something good happens, someone compliments you, and you feel embarrassed? _ “Well, you know. I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you.”

Mr. Smythe patted Keith’s shoulder. “Ah, you could’ve done it. Stop by if you ever need anything, yeah? See you later, Keith,” he said, scratching the corner of his mustache and walking out of the room.

Mrs. Alfie turned towards him. “Quite the character, Mr. Smythe.”

“I know all too well,” Keith said dryly, “but he’s still one of the best people at this school.”

Mrs. Alfie laughed. “Well, he  _ is _ your counselor. Listen, I need you to go to the swim practice tomorrow afternoon and get the swim team picture. You can schedule the basketball team with Coach Iverson at some point, but…”  She gestured vaguely. “Well, both of us know how Mitch can be. Tread lightly.”

“You got it,” Keith said. “Swim tomorrow at 5, and basketball… probably Friday. What about wrestling and table tennis?”

“Shay and Plaxum are doing those,” Mrs. Alfie said. “I figured it would be a good group activity, since they’re new and I want them to be able to do it without you next year. One of them will be Head next year, since both of them are juniors. Also, I got your star athletes paper- thank you, by the way, I gave it to the journalist class. They’re going to be releasing the newspaper next Monday or Tuesday. You should flip through it- I’m sure most of the pictures are from you.”

“Yeah, you got it,” Keith said, shrugging and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’ll write a reminder in my phone for tomorrow- see you, Mrs. Alfie.”

“Goodbye, Keith. Have a lovely evening!”

He waved and walked out the door, heading straight for his bike. Pidge always went home immediately after school on Wednesdays, which meant he could go to the gym before sending Mr. Iverson an email about the basketball team.


	2. Terrible Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 feat. my Hogwarts headcanons and a dose of angst
> 
> Terrible Things by Mayday Parade: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EIulZ0Vw2z8

Shiro came home whistling.

Keith raised his eyebrows. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“There’s a guy in my Physics class at Garrison. And I like him. So I asked him if he wanted to get coffee.”

“Seriously? A cafe? How cliche.”

“This guy could be my soulmate. You don’t know,” Shiro said, putting his keys down on the coffee table and sitting down on the couch next to Keith. “I know you don’t believe in true love and all that-”

“1 in 2 marriages end in divorce in the United States,” Keith deadpanned. 

“-but  _ some _ people really think there’s a soulmate out there for them. I’m one of them, and I really hope I find him or her soon, okay? Maybe you'll find someone who changes your mind.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Yeah, as if anyone likes me.”

Shiro smiled teasingly. “You never know. You’ll have a soulmate soon enough.”

Keith kept his poker face. “I just don’t think it’s worth all the risk. What if something bad happened?”

Shiro frowned and turned to look at Keith. “Is _that_ what you’re afraid of?” He shifted his weight so he was facing Keith more directly. Keith hated that position, and that face- Shiro learned it while interning for a kindergarten class. It was supposed to make people feel safer, more willing to talk. But he'd talked about their parents enough.

Keith scrunched his face, annoyed he said anything. “No. I’m gonna go shower and sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” Shiro agreed carefully. “Goodnight, Keith.”

“Goodnight,” Keith muttered, racing up the stairs, anxious to get away.

____________________

  
Keith couldn’t sleep. At first, he tried listening to music, but the first song on the playlist was  _ Terrible Things _ . It didn’t help, given his conversation with Shiro.

It was the middle of January, but he was sweaty and couldn’t keep his eyes closed for the life of him. His head was pounding with one of the worst headaches he’d had in a while. No amount of Advil helped (although the more he took, the more counterproductive it was).

He tossed and turned. The bed was creaking, so that kept him up, too. He didn’t know what to do. Hours later, after thinking about everything in his life that led to that moment, he fell into a fitful sleep.

  
He slept until 7:15. He cursed the moment he saw the clock and threw on a black shirt, gray sweatpants, and his backpack. He didn’t have time for breakfast, which he rarely ate anyway. He tried to think back- when had he fallen asleep? Four? Maybe five?

He came to a dead stop when he left the door. 

Shiro was gone, but the car wasn’t. 

He blinked, confused, and locked the door. He was at his bike when he realized he wasn’t wearing a jacket, so he reluctantly dug his keys out of his pocket and got into the car. He turned on the radio and started driving- it was already 7:25, and given how many people drove to school, he was  _ fucked. _ He was going to be late no matter what, so…  _ Why bother going? _

He frowned. Where did that thought come from? He didn’t skip anymore. He couldn’t risk it. He reversed out of the driveway and left for school, listening to the radio. 

He practically ran through the door of the school. Unfortunately, that was the moment the late bell decided to ring. He cursed and went to his first period rather than signing in at the office (which he was supposed to do, technically, but it had been thirty seconds since first period started). 

Mr. Ahkles gave Keith a pointed look. “Keith? Do you have a late note?”

“It’s been one minute!” Keith protested, but Mr. Ahkles was a stickler for the rules and somehow worse than Mr. Iverson could ever be. Maybe it was because he was old and bitter about being a high school teacher. Not to mention he talked about his political values more often than any teacher should. He seemed intent on pushing kids towards being conservative.

“Late pass?”

“No,” Keith sulked.

“Fourth one this semester, Keith,” Mr. Ahkles warned. “One more and you get a detention. You’re unexcused. You’ll be getting a call tonight.”

“Fuck _off_ ,” Keith muttered under his breath. He went to his seat in the back because he was too anxious to sit in the front. What if he smelled and someone was behind him? What if his hair had a huge knot in the back? What if someone was just _looking_ at him and he didn’t even know?

There were too many possibilities.

Keith sunk in his seat and tried to pay attention- really, he knew he _should_ , Ahkles said there was an exit ticket- but he couldn’t. He was too busy looking outside, glancing at his phone, doodling on the margins of his paper, not to mention he just _didn't get it._ His heart was beating a little more heavily than usual. He couldn’t stop tapping his foot. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins. Why? Because he was late and he had to talk to the teacher in front of the class?

He felt angry. Seriously? He was  _ 18 fucking years old _ . He couldn’t be upset after every little spat, even with an authority figure in front of an audience. He was so lost as to why-  _ why _ \- he was this way, he considered going to Mr.  _ Smythe _ again.

As much as Mr. Smythe helped him, Keith was sure that the guy was ready for Keith’s chapter in his life to finally end. Mr. Smythe had hundreds of other students to counsel and write schedules for and do all the things counselors do.

He shook the thought from his head and tried to focus on the math work again, but he was too busy drawing random thing in the margins and staring at the clock that he’d wasted the entire period already.

Mr. Ahkles handed out exit tickets, which Keith stared at for a full minute thinking,  _ ohnoohnoohno _  before holding the paper in front of him and thinking,  _ Oh, fuck _  with a certain finality.

Mr. Ahkles taught something new that day.

He tried to think back. What was new in Calculus today? He wrote down his best guess, but the bell rang halfway through his third number and he knew his grade would sink.

_ If only you hadn’t been late. _

________________________

  
He handed his homework to Pidge at lunch.

“You’re in AP. Please help me figure this out,” he practically begged her.

She frowned at the paper. “Okay. I missed Calc today because of a doctor’s appointment at the asscrack of dawn, but I think you’re supposed to factor the equation first…”

She talked him through it, but they were interrupted by an annoyingly familiar voice.

“Pidgey-Poo!”

“If you ever…  _ dare… _ to call me that again, I’ll slit your throat open with a dull knife,” Pidge hissed at Lance, pointing her pencil menacingly.

Lance put his hands up in mock surrender. Mr. Hutch turned to look at Pidge. “Pidge, don’t be so aggressive, please.”

“Sorry, Mr. Hutch,” Pidge sulked. She liked Mr. Hutch since was one of the few teachers that allowed food in his room, despite it being a computer room (Pidge liked him for that despite never having lunch). She glowered at Lance pointedly.

“Hey, Hunk,” Keith said, piping up, “are you on the basketball team?”

“Yeah, actually,” Hunk said. “Why?”

“Cause I sent an email to Iverson yesterday, but he evidently hasn’t responded,” Keith said, pointing to the computer he’d logged into. “It’s making me nervous because he usually replies after a couple  _ hours. _ And I saw him in his office at his computer.”  _ Such a stupid thing to be worried about. _

“I don’t know,” Hunk admitted. “I’ll see if he says anything during practice today. I’ll let you know tomorrow at lunch if he still hasn’t emailed you back- Pidge and I are still working on this project as our final biology grade for the semester.”

“Oh, yeah,” Keith said, suddenly lost in thought. “The end of the semester.”

How would his schedule change?  _ I should check _ . What missing assignments did he need to turn in?  _ I should go look _ . What if it didn’t matter, and his GPA went low? It couldn’t dip below a 3.0 at the very _least_. He couldn’t afford that, not when colleges were looking at him right now. He still needed to apply- or was he taking a gap year? He didn’t think Shiro would approve. More than that, how was he even going to _pay_ for college? Especially if he couldn’t get scholarships, because no one wanted to sponsor him, because his grades were so low because he was so _ underprepared for the semester grades…  _

He snapped back to the real world very suddenly. It couldn’t have been more than ten seconds since he spoke, but he realized Lance and Pidge were looking at him (Hunk was getting his binder and notes from his backpack), and he was tapping his foot unnecessarily fast. 

“The semester ends next week?” He asked. He didn’t mean for it to sound so croaky. What was  _ up _ with him today? Why was he so  _ stupidly _ worried today about everything?

“Uh,  _ yeah _ , dude. It’s not the end of the world,” Lance said, one eyebrow raised like he was half-concerned, half-perplexed. Keith set his jaw and turned around in his seat. He had work to do. He had to find the missing grades and calculate his current GPA, and how it would drop if he didn’t do anything with the currently missing grades. He had to make sure his GPA was going upwards of a 3.5, unweighted.

Lance, surprisingly enough, said, “Man, that reminds me. I got a  _ lot _ of shit to do.”

He pulled out his own binder and opened it up. Keith watched him pull out incomplete papers and start working, but the silence didn’t last long.

Twenty minutes later, Nyma Van Tael walked in, smiling and giggling with one of her friends. “Hey, Lance!”

“Oh, hey there, Nyma,” Lance said, looking up and leaning back in his chair, pretending he hadn’t been doing his school work two seconds ago. “What brings you to the geeky parts of Arus High School?”

“Just you,” Nyma said, flashing a smile. Keith glanced up momentarily just to see what was happening. Nyma was wearing her hair in a thick, long, blonde ponytail. Her eyes were dark brown, and her skin was paler than the last time Keith had seen her. Maybe her summer tan faded? Still, she  _ was _ beautiful- just not at all Keith’s type. “Wanted to let you know how disappointed I am that the girls don’t cheer at swim meets.”

“I’d definitely need your encouragement,” Lance said as sincerely as he could. “I’ll miss you, Nyma.”

Nyma giggled again, but put on the same sad face quickly. “In another life, Lance.”

She smiled again turned to leave. Lance said, “Farewell, my princess!”

She giggled and waved. Keith rolled his eyes. Seriously? “Classic,” he muttered, but unfortunately for him, Lance had the ears of a bat.

“What’d you say, Mullet?” Lance asked, swiveling around in his chair to face Keith.

“I said ‘classic,’” Keith snapped. 

“What does _that_ mean?” Lance asked, annoyed.

“It means you flirt badly with every girl you see,” Keith said, still angry. 

“Jealous, Mullet?” Lance taunted. “I flirt with _guys_ , too, you know. Lancey Lance doesn’t care.”

Keith ignored the first part of Lance’s sentence. Was he serious? “Please don’t ever refer to yourself in the third person again.” He wrinkled his nose. “Or as  _ Lancey Lance. _ ”

“You’re into it,” Lance said, waving his hand dismissively. “So’s Nyma.”

“Why do I care about Nyma, again?” Keith asked in a bored voice.

Lance sat straight up, one eyebrow arched in interest. “So are you jealous of me, or Nyma? Maybe you want Nyma, the perfect cheerleader?”

“Nyma’s not my type, Lance,” Keith flatly.

“What is?” Lance questioned, leaning forward. “I don’t know how many girls will go for the emo with a mullet, but I’ll do my best to hook you up.”

“How generous,” Keith said dryly. “I’m gay.” 

Lance blinked. “Wait, really?”

“Yes,  _ really _ ,” Keith said, but he couldn’t help the hostile edge in his voice. He’d been made fun of in elementary school and middle school before he was moved to a different family that finally adopted him. He didn’t need to deal with it again.

Lance’s smirk immediately came back. “So you’re jealous of Nyma because she’s got all my attention?”

“ _You’re_ not my type, either!” Keith snapped. He could feel the tips of his ears start to warm.

Lance raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I am  _ everyone’s  _ type.”

Keith glared and opened his mouth to retort, but Pidge caught his eye and shook her head ever so slightly. Did she not want him to argue because she knew it was a lost cause? They’d been distracting enough already? Maybe she thought Keith was being annoying. Keith closed his mouth and looked back at his homework, determined to finish everything.

Lance took a hint and did his work, too, except he tapped his pencil whenever he wasn’t writing, which Keith found incredibly annoying. “Can you _stop_?” He asked.

He didn’t mean for it to sound so snarky. Lance looked at him and frowned. “Sorry. I’m not used to not doing anything. Or not talking or whatever.”

“It’s obvious,” Keith bit. “Stop being so distracting.”

Lance made an expression like he’d disappointed someone he didn’t want to disappoint. “Sorry,” he muttered. He started bouncing his leg instead. Keith saw it out of the corner of his eye and turned his head so it didn’t grab his attention every time it moved. He saw Lance’s fingers twitch whenever he was stuck on a question like he  _ really _ wanted to tap his pencil.

Keith cleared his head. Why was he taking such serious note of Lance’s movements? He didn’t care. He was just Pidge’s other good friend. Hunk was actually nice to him- he should focus on being friends with Hunk, if anyone.

Lance sat up, a frustrated look on his face, and crumpled up a paper, throwing it in the recycling bin. It bounced off the side. 

“You missed,” Keith said.

Lance cursed and stood up dramatically, shooting Keith a death glare, and started waltzing over to the bin to theatrically dip and pick up the paper. Keith figured he had to since he was already so tall. Lance walked back and looked at Keith, scoffing. “I definitely made more baskets than you the last time we did that, Mullet.”

“I don’t think so," Keith said, crossing his arms.

Lance grinned. “No. I kept track. I beat you by three.”

Keith scowled and kept his arms crossed. “You probably cheated. I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“I like being better than people but I  _ don’t _ cheat my way to the top. I work hard for my ambitions,” Lance said. “It’s why I’m a Slytherin.”

“Slytherin?” Keith asked, taken by surprise. He hadn’t expected Lance McClain to even know what Harry Potter was. Sure, Keith read the books when he was 10 years old, once upon a time. But he didn’t know what house he’d be in.

“Yeah. Plus, Slytherins value fraternity. My friends are  _ my friends, _ and I love them.” Lance turned to face Keith more completely. “What House are you in?”

Keith shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t even remember the last time I thought about Harry Potter.”

“That shit won’t fly here at AHS,” Lance said, shaking his finger and scooting his chair to a computer. His fingers flew across the keyboard. “You have to take the test, Keith. Right now.”

“There're ten minutes left of lunch!” Keith protested.

“Don’t care,” Lance said dismissively. “You have to. Now. It _must_ be done. Every child born between 1985 and 2006 has taken the Pottermore test, Keith.”

“I got Slytherin, too,” Pidge piped up. She and Hunk moved over towards Keith and Lance. Lance’s computer loads up. “I took a quiz on Time.com and my second house was Ravenclaw.”

“I’m a Hufflepuff,” Hunk chimed in. “I took the Time breakdown test, and I was like… 90% Hufflepuff. My second was Gryffindor.”

“I’m not surprised,” Keith told him.

“Thought you didn’t know anything about Harry Potter, Mullet,” Lance said, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” Keith said defensively. “I just haven’t read the books in a long time.”

“Last time I read them was ninth grade,” Pidge said.

“Probably a year ago for me, honestly,” Hunk said. 

“Maybe a couple months ago,” Lance said. “And I watched a marathon last week. Good shit. Loved it. You should watch one, Mullet.”

“How often are there marathons?” Keith hated himself for being so interested. He noticed Lance was tapping his fingers while he went onto the Pottermore website.

“Make an account,” Lance said, motioning towards the computer and wheeling back from it. “There’s at least one marathon every 2 months. Potter’s popular. I have a throw blanket.”

“What’s on it?” Pidge asked.

“It’s the four houses,” Lance answered. “Haven’t you seen it?”

Pidge furrowed her eyebrows. “Uh, yeah, actually. You’re such a giant dork.”

“I think that’s one too many adjectives, Pidgeot. Anyway, come on Keith, have you signed up yet?”

“I’m verifying the email.”

They watched Keith take the Pottermore test. His palms felt sweaty. He heard Lance  _ hmph _ behind him at one point. Did he make the wrong choice? He steadied his breathing. It was a  _ fucking Harry Potter quiz. _ Not a test. Not anything important.

“Gryffindor,” Keith read aloud.

“I had you pegged for a Slytherin,” Lance said. “I mean, you’re pretty damn ambitious.”

“But he also values his friends over himself,” Pidge pointed out. She didn’t add,  _ Meaning he values Shiro and me over himself _ since he didn’t actually  _ have _ any other friends. “And no offense, Keith, but you can get reckless.”

He knew what she was talking about. He didn’t want to think about it. 

“Yeah,” Keith said. “I guess.”

Hunk and Lance’s faces drooped ever so slightly like they knew there was something more to that. Lance waited half a second before saying, “You’re my rival now.”

“Weren’t we rivals before?” Keith scoffed.

“Well, yeah. But now we’re even more rival-y than before.”

“What can we even rival in? I don’t play sports anymore, Lance. And we don’t have any classes or extracurriculars together.”

“You play soccer.”

Keith scowled. “I haven’t played soccer in years.” How did Lance even know Keith played soccer?

“Why not?” Lance sounded more surprised than anything.

“No reason,” Keith mumbled. He leaned back in his chair.  “I just like photography more.” Anxious to change the subject, he said, “I have to take the swim team picture today at 5:15. So make sure you’re there, Lance, and in the uniform suit.”

“The uniform suit is just black,” Lance said. “I wish it was black and blue or something. I’ve been told I look  _ wonderful _ in blue.”

“Very sexy,” Pidge said, stifling laughter.

“So daring,” Hunk said, snickering.

Lance pouted. “Hey!”

Keith couldn’t help a smile. “I’m glad we’re all making fun of Lance, but I have places to be.” He shouldered his backpack and stood up.

“Where do you have to be that’s so important?” Lance huffed.

The bell rang. Keith pointed up and quirked an eyebrow. “Fifth period, maybe?”

___________________________

  
Seventh period was always rough. At least it was in the first semester. Keith still hadn’t checked his second semester schedule- what would it be in just a week?- but right now, it was English. He hated English. He wasn’t good with words, whether he was writing them or speaking them. Mr. Steele always tried to help him, but people had been trying to help Keith with English since 6th grade. It just wasn’t for him.  _ Maybe I should try my luck with Korean _ , he thought miserably as he walked into the classroom.

Worse, there was a presentation due today.

Keith hadn’t forgotten about it, thank God. It’d slipped his mind during lunch, but he definitely did it. But did it need any tweaks? He prayed that he wouldn’t be the one who was picked first.

Ever so lucky for him, he was last.

Keith has  _ never _ been good at presentations. _Before_ he learned to keep his emotions in check, he struggled to hold back tears during presentations, which had been a nightmare all throughout middle school. He started laughing during one in seventh grade- full belly laughter. He couldn’t stop even when tears were streaming down his face and he left to get water for three minutes.

So when Keith walked to the front of the room when his stick was called (really? Popsicle sticks? They weren’t 10), his legs felt like lead and his tongue felt swollen and stuck in his throat. He coughed once- twice- three times, and stuttered on the opening slide. 

“So, I uh, analyzed Shakespeare’s  _ Sonnet 12 _ … and Woodworth’s  _ We Are Seven _ …”

He couldn’t stop tapping his foot. He felt like Lance. And suddenly, there he was, clear as day in Keith’s mind- tapping his pencil, unbothered by it, unable to stop. It felt like his whole jaw was being held down by chains and sand bags. Did people really do this well? Speak loudly?  _ And _ clearly?  _ Publicly? _ He couldn’t go three words without stumbling.

He finished the presentation with two minutes left to the bell. He felt awful. He just hoped Mr. Steele would take pity on him when grading  _that_ disaster.

________________________

  
At five o’clock, he arrived outside the Arus Indoor Pool, where the AHS kids swam. He checked his watch, put the camera strap around his neck, and grabbed the tripod from the car trunk since Shiro was still missing. He wasn’t too concerned- as soon as Shiro came home, he’d ask him why he didn’t have the car. Still, he was glad he didn’t have to strap the tripod to his motorcycle. 

The coach wasn’t there. Instead, it was a girl that looked like she was  _ his _ age. Her hair was almost to her waist and curly. It was dyed white, but the roots were dark brown, almost black. Her skin was dark and when she turned to face him, he realized she had one bright blue eye and one dark brown eye. She waved at someone who was swimming, and Keith’s eyes almost bugged out- her bicep flexed to show off how  _ incredibly _ muscular she was.

He walked up to her. “Hi, uh, excuse me? I’ve gotta take the picture for the swim team.”

The girl smiled at him. “I’m filling in for today since he’s sick. My name is Allura Altea.” Was that an English accent?

She held out a hand. Keith shook it. “Allura? Do you… do you go to Garrison?” He swore he'd heard her name before.

“As a matter of fact, yes!”

“Oh. Do you know Shiro?"

"He interns my Chemistry class and tutors me in it when I need the extra help. He's a great person," Allura said. She quirked an eyebrow. "And you are?"

“Keith. Shiro’s younger brother.”

“He talks about you quite a bit.”

“Good things?”  _What does Shiro say about me?_

“Relatively,” Allura said teasingly. “He complains about you sometimes, but it’s always small things.”

“Yeah, that’s Takashi, all right.”

Allura laughed again. “I’m not sure where he is now. Maybe work? Anyway, the team is just getting changed. My cousin said they take a long time to change.”

He pulled a face. “Well, I’ve got things to do. I’m gonna go set up the tripod in that corner. Have them go stand on the benches when they get out- I have to call my brother.”

Allura nodded and checked her phone. Keith walked off and dialed Shiro’s number.

Shiro picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Why didn’t you take the car this morning?”’

“I- what? You’re calling me because of the car?”

“Yeah. Plus, I didn’t see you when I got home. I know you work today. How did you get there?”

"Matt drove me. He was up early today for an 8 am class. Listen, I’ll be home tonight. I had to pick up an extra shift today. It’s paid, don’t worry. I’ll be home by seven.”

“That’s a 12-hour shift.”

“I know, Keith.” Shiro’s tone was more gentle than it had been a moment before.

“Why?” The swollen tongue returned. “Are we tight on money?”

Shiro sighed, but he didn’t immediately say ‘no.’ “Keith, I don’t want you worrying about that stuff-”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

“Keith, stop. You’re stressing yourself out,” Shiro interrupted. “I got a raise the other day, anyway, so I’ve been trying to get more hours. I could get a promotion soon, which will help with however long I stay at this job. I just asked for more hours. The extra money is only a bonus."

 

"If you say so," Keith said, unconvinced. "I met Allura, by the way. I gotta go, though, so bye."

“Goodbye,” Shiro exhaled. He hung up. Keith stared at his phone, frowning.

Most of the team was already on the bleachers. He set up the tripod and put his camera on it. A scowl came when he realized what shitty lighting he’d have to work with. 

Someone came up behind him and tapped his shoulder. He jumped and nearly dropped his camera in the pool. “Hey!” He said, spinning around. “I almost-” He stopped when he saw who it was.

“Sorry,” Lance said. He looked sheepish enough that Keith figured he didn’t mean to scare him. “I was coming over before the picture because I know I was a huge dick during lunch.”

“When?” Keith frowned.

“When you said you were gay and I was sort of picking on you,” Lance said, shrugging. He wasn’t making eye contact. “It was dicky. So, I’m sorry.”

Keith blinked. “Oh. It’s fine, Lance. Don’t worry about it. Go over to the bleachers if you want to make it up to me. The smell of chlorine is getting to me, so I’d _really_ like to finish this up.”

Lance looked up, straight into Keith’s eyes, and smiled half-heartedly. The blue shocked Keith like electricity.  _ No. Definitely no. _ “If you say so, Mullet.”

Lance sauntered over to the bleachers and hopped up on a bench. Keith counted down from three on his fingers. Lance’s eyes were  _ really _ blue. But Keith couldn’t find Lance attractive- it was  _ Lance. _ Sure, he’d apologized now, but it was only a matter of time before Lance did something _else_  that was dicky.

He took the picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly it's a struggle to decide if Keith is a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor but I'm gonna stick with the whole "rivals and perfect opposites" shtick :)


	3. Take Me to Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> big ol cannabis and alcohol warning!! here is the "bad decisions" part of the tags
> 
> Take Me to Church by Hozier :) good ass song! oldie but a goodie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYSVMgRr6pw

Shiro was waiting for him when he got home.

After he left the indoor pool, he went to McDonald’s and sat in the parking lot, eating three McChickens. He never went in if he could avoid it. Drive-thrus were Keith's favorite part of fast food.

 

"Are we tight on money?" Keith asked calmly.

"We're a little short," Shiro started, "not _tight_ -"

"Why couldn't you _tell_ me-?"

“You need to focus on school, this is your  _ senior year- _ ”

“Can you say the same about _your_ senior year? Aren’t I the reason it was so  _ shitty- _ ?”

“Just because  _ my _ senior year was stressful doesn’t mean  _ yours _ should be, and besides, you  _ know _ that wasn’t the only reason it was stressful-”

“See? I was fucking stress to you. Now, I can get a job, and take some of your stress-”

“I want you to live the life you  _ could’ve had- _ !”

“Could’ve had if my  _ real _ mom and dad hadn’t died?” Keith knew he should stop, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Could’ve had if my first set of foster parents hadn’t ditched me because I was ‘problematic’? Or the second because I couldn’t get along with their  _ real _ kids? Or the third because I was gay? Should I go on?”

Shiro squeezed his eyes shut. “Keith-”

“Could’ve had if my parents hadn’t died  _ again _ four years ago?”

Shiro’s eyes shot open. He opened his mouth to say something, but he didn’t. He just stared. Keith could see the hurt in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Shiro.”

“Keith-”

“No, I’m sorry. That was shitty. I have a temper, I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it. It was really low.”

“Keith, they were your parents too. Yeah, it was definitely shitty, but both of us lost them. I took the extra shift because I was a little behind on bills this month. It’s nothing you need to worry about, and I didn’t want to dig into the settlement savings.”

“Will you tell me if it  _ does _ become something I need to worry about?”

“It’s never going to be something you need to worry about.”

“Will you tell me if I would think it’s something I need to worry about?”

Shiro hesitated. 

“Takashi.”

“Yes, I’ll tell you. But you’re going to college soon. You’ll get a summer job, and I’ll help you out then, too.”

Keith sighed and looked Shiro in the eyes. “Takashi. You shouldn’t worry about being my dad so much. You’re my brother. You're in your _twenties_ , not your forties. Worry about your date with that guy, or your grades in college, or whatever you and Matt are doing next week.”

“But also about the bills.”

Keith smiled humorlessly. “Well, someone has to.”

__________________________________

  
He couldn’t sleep again.

He watched the clock until it was 4:18 in the morning. He was thinking about the next semester. How would his classes change? Would he have any with Pidge? Or Hunk? Or Lance?

He tried not to think about it. 

When he did fall asleep, he dreamt of alcohol and foster kids.

_________________________________

  
Friday morning. Keith didn’t want to go to school. He put on sweatpants and a hoodie because he didn’t want to do anything except sit in comfort. Besides, who put effort into their looks?

And since he had his hoodie, he could use the motorcycle without worrying about road burn. Not that he had a choice- Shiro’s car was gone. A sure sign that he’d gone to work at the time he was supposed to. 

The day passed by as a breeze in comparison to yesterday, where he was filled to the brim with worry over nothing. He considered going to Smythe again. Just to check in and make sure it wasn’t anything to worry about-

_ Seriously, Keith? Worrying about your worry? That’s a new low. _

He ignored that thought said decided not to go to Mr. Smythe.

He got back the exit ticket in Mr. Ahkles class. He gave him a big, fat, red zero. Keith figured he’d get a low score, but he’d been hoping he’d get  _ something _ right. Written at the top was a note that said  _ See me after class. _ Mr. Ahkles gave Keith a pointed look while handing the tickets back.

“Oh, shit,” he said to himself under his breath. He sunk into his seat. What did he want to say? Wait, this ticket could hurt Keith’s grade- a  _ zero! _ \- and there was only one week left in the semester. Keith  _ had _ to focus today. He couldn’t afford to not know what was going on before the final unit test of the semester. Which was next Thursday. He had less than one _week_ to prepare and get an A on the test.

Keith was fucked. He _had_ to get his act together. He forced himself to look at the board and write down everything, even if he didn’t understand it- he could spend hours going over it with Pidge. 

_ If Pidge has the patience for you. _

By the time the bell rang, Keith’s notebook paper was filled with math equations he didn’t understand. He wasn’t looking forward to this talk.

He slowly walked to the front of the room. He knew Mr. Ahkles didn’t have a second or a third period, so he wasn’t  _ too _ nervous about someone walking in and hearing them talk about how Keith failed the exit ticket. He waited until the room was empty to approach Mr. Ahkles’s desk.

“So, you, uh, wanted to see me?” Keith’s voice strained.

“Yes. Keith, you got a zero on the ticket yesterday. I had to put a zero in the grade book. You know this material will be on the test next week, correct?”

“Uh. Yes. I-I do.”  _ Stop stuttering. _

“Then I hope you know you’ll have to learn it either during class or outside of class over the next week. I’m available at lunch the day before the test, but I’d prefer it if you learned it yourself, like you were supposed to yesterday.”

Keith’s tongue felt too big for his mouth. “Uh. Yes. I will. Don’t… worry.”

“Good. I don’t need you failing my class. That makes it seem like I’m a bad teacher, but really, sometimes, there are just bad students.” Mr. Ahkles made a face like,  _ What can you do? _ “Run along, now. Don’t be late for your next class.”

Keith nodded once, quickly. “Got it,” he choked. He practically ran out of the classroom. 

He was just a bad student.

____________________________________

  
Unfortunately, what started out as a good day was quickly becoming yet another awful day. And on a Friday, no less. All because Mr. Ahkles told Keith that everyone  _ else _ in the class was doing good. Keith wasn’t because he was, inherently, just a bad student. It stuck with him through the day.

In Physics, Mr. Cliff was calling people randomly to answer questions on the board. Keith was called on the  _ one _ question he had no idea. The other ones, he hadn’t been certain, but at least he had a clue. His adrenaline spiked, and he said, “I-I don’t know.” Mr. Cliff had tried to walk him through it and help, but in the end, let Keith pick another person to help.

And last period in AP Chemistry, Mrs. Stoll (she’d just gotten married last month) handed out a quiz Keith had forgotten about. He was actually pretty good with Chemistry, but the test took him by surprise, so he was sure he’d gotten something wrong. 

He walked into the computer lab and started logging onto a computer. He  _ had _ to check his grades. How would that zero hurt his Calc grade? While the computer was logging in, he pulled out his Calculus work he did that day and plopped it in front of Pidge, who had silently watched Keith rush in and flip through his binder.

“Please help me,” he begged.

“With your Calc homework?”

Keith let out a short, breathy laugh. “I don’t even know what the homework is. What’d you get?”

“I have Mr. Hawkins, Keith. I do next semester, too, thank god. I was worried I’d be stuck with Ahkles.”

“I really have to check what my schedule is next semester,” Keith said, mouth turning down into a frown. The idea made him too queasy to really do anything about it.  _ Great. More procrastination _ . “But _please_ help me with this.”

She did her best to explain it, but Keith was only a little less lost than before. “I’m sorry, Keith,” she sighed. “I’m not so good at teaching people what I’m talking about.”

“It’s all right, Pidge,” Keith grumbled. He looked at the paper, thoroughly defeated. “Some kids are just bad students.”

Pidge frowned and opened her mouth to say something, but Lance and Hunk walked through the door again. “Hey, Pidge!” Hunk said excitedly. “I have an idea for how to decorate our slides in a more visually appealing way. If things look good, people are more likely to think the actual content is good, too. Bakers and chefs do it all the time with delicious food that looks like vomit!”

Lance sat next to Keith, holding a paper and looking upset. “Uh, you okay?” Keith asked.

Lance jerked his head up and scowled. “Fine. It’s just chemistry.”

“You got your quizzes back already?”

“I had to take mine yesterday since I wasn’t going to be here today. I went in a couple minutes ago to see how I did. That’s why Hunk and I came in a couple minutes later than usual.”

“Well, how’d you do?” Keith’s eyes widened. “Sorry. That was intrusive. It’s fine if you don’t…”

Lance put the test on the table. 18/30. Keith’s heart stopped. If Lance, who got a 4 on the Psych 1 test, got an 18/30 on a chemistry test, there was no  _ way _ Keith was going to get a good score. “I failed. And we have the final  _ test  _ test on Wednesday.”

“Oh, jeez, Lance. Now I feel like  _ I _ failed.”

“What?”

“I mean, if  _ you _ got that bad of a score, I just… don’t know how I did.”

“Um, dude. I  _ suck _ at chemistry. Do you understand any of it?”

“I mean… I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure-”

“Keith,” Lance interrupted, impatient. “Stop basing how good you are on how good I am. I’m  _ not _ good. I’m more of an English or History guy, but Chemistry? Biology? Not so much.”

“You’re good at English?”

“I like to pride myself in it. Especially since I know both English and Spanish. Language, in general, is my strong suit.”

“So would you be able to help me with analyzing Shakespeare bullshit?”

“The assignment that Mr. Steele gave out?”

“Yeah,” Keith said. “That’s the one.”

“Sure, but I still need you to cover me in Chem.”

Was this a moment? Keith blinked. They were getting along. More than that, they were helping each other. “Yeah, of course I can. Jeez, that English presentation was awful…”

It was a step in the right direction.

At the end of the period, when the bell for fifth rang, Lance’s head snapped up. “Wait! Pigeon, you haven’t gone to any parties this year. And you said I could make you go to  _ one _ party every semester in exchange for help in AP Stat. So, Jake's having a party, and I’m making you come.”

Pidge stared, and opened her mouth, holding up an index finger. She closed her mouth, lowered her finger, and said, “Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed. You’re coming,” Lance said. “And I don’t want to be DD, so Hunk is coming, too.”

“I can’t go,” Hunk said. “I have a date, dude.”

“With Shay?”

“Yeah. I _told_ you I asked her out!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t  _confirm_ you had a _set_   date!"  Lance groaned and threw his head back. “Damn it, Hunk. Pidgey, I don’t care, you’re still coming. I will pay for your Uber if I have to.”

“If I’m going, Keith is coming.”

“Uh-” Keith looked at her, nervously laughing, one eyebrow quirked. “I don’t think so, Katie.”

“I think so, Keithy,” Pidge in her bitchiest tone, which she used every time someone called her Katie. “I’m not forcing myself to go to a party by myself if you can be miserable, too.”

“You know what’ll happen if I go,” Keith said, looking her dead in the eye. “I’m not going to drink, but I will  _ definitely _ smoke.” He dropped his voice so Mr. Hutch didn’t hear it.

She sighed. “If you don’t think it’s a good idea, I won’t make you go.”

Lance gaped at her. “I have  _ never _ seen you give up so easily.”

Pidge shrugged. “I know I can’t force Keith to do anything.” Keith was glad she was such a good liar. “So are you coming, Kogane?”

Keith sighed and looked out the window in the back of the class. It was barely snowing outside, but it would get warmer later, which meant that gross, gray sludge on the sidewalks.

“Can’t imagine a better way to spend this Friday.”

_______________________

  
Of course, Keith’s day fucked up exponentially as it went on. He was glad Pidge asked him to go to the party- he could forget all the problems waiting for him at school.  _ Be careful. Don’t want that stuff happening again. This is a one-time kind of smoke-up. _

He couldn’t afford to fall into that pit again- figuratively and monetarily. 

So when he checked online for his English grade and saw he got a 29/40, he decided that there had never been a better Friday to have a one-time kind of smoke-up.

_ Don’t think like that. _

But he couldn’t help it. He rubbed his hands together nervously and went towards the girls’ locker room, which Pidge came storming out of. She looked  _ beyond _ furious- Keith was almost scared of telling her he took the motorcycle. 

“Hey, Pidge. Are you uh, jeez, are you okay?”

“Fine,” she said, but her tone was too acidic and her eyes were too narrow to be just ‘fine.’ “Let’s just go. I can’t  _ wait _ for this stupid fucking party.”

So, Pidge was that angry that she couldn’t wait for a party? Keith  _ knew _ something was up. “Katie.”

“ _ What _ ?” She swung around and glared at Keith, her fists balled.

“What happened with Iverson?”

Her shoulders tensed. “He… It was nothing. It’s stupid. Come  _ on _ , Keith. Let’s get the stupid helmet.” She walked ahead of him towards his locker. Keith felt conflicted- he  _ knew _ what she was feeling. He wanted to help or make her talk about it, but he knew when _he_ was like that, the last thing he’d want to do is talk about it. 

So he let it go. Maybe he’d ask about it later that night after she'd cooled off. 

Pidge was already on her tiptoes, reaching up to pull the green helmet from the top of the locker when Keith caught up to her. “So, you’re fine with the motorcycle today?”

“As long as it does its fucking job and gets me away from this school.”

“Pidge, you know bottling up your shit isn’t good. This isn’t what people mean by ‘get your shit together’!”

“You’re  _ so _ one to talk, Keith!” Pidge slammed his locker shut and Keith saw one hand clenched in a fist so tight, her knuckles were white. “Just what did  _ you _ do every fucking day in ninth grade? Or tenth, even? And still today?”

It stung. But Keith knew he deserved it. “I bottled things up, but that doesn’t mean it was a good decision! I don’t want you to… to do that.” 

Something in his sincerity reached her. She sighed. Her shoulders slumped. “Okay. Iverson was absent today. There was a sub. Some stupid old lady. She called me ‘he’ a bunch of times on purpose because my hair is short. And I was wearing my normal clothes because I don’t change, and apparently they’re really masculine… I corrected her once and she said girls shouldn’t wear clothes like mine or have their hair short and that I wouldn’t find a boy like that.”

“Why the fuck-?”

“And I mean,” Pidge was geared up for a rant, “it’s not like I even fucking  _ want _ a boy, so she can eat my  _ ass - _ ”

“Pidge-”

“I don’t know!” Pidge exclaimed, exasperated. “I guess I’m a  _ tomboy _ and some old lady couldn’t fucking handle that! Girls can wear baggy clothes and sneakers, Keith. They can have their hair short. And it just… hurt. Which is stupid, I know-”

“It’s not stupid,” Keith said instantly. “I don’t blame you. I’d be pissed if some lady told me I should cut my hair because it looked like a girl’s. Some teachers just  _ suck _ .”

Mr. Ahkles came to mind, but then Keith remembered that it hadn’t been Mr. Ahkles’s fault he didn’t understand anything since everyone else did.

“Yeah.” She sniffed. “Iverson might’ve been a dick, but at least he didn’t deliberately misgender me and tell me I’m not feminine enough.” She turned to face the empty hallway that led to the locker room. “Sorry for not fitting your gender roles,  _ bitch _ !” She shouted. 

Keith laughed. He couldn’t help it. Pidge offered him a weak smile. “And I’m sorry for bringing up ninth grade. That was bitchy.”

“Don’t worry, Pidge. Come on. I have to give you a ride home. How’re we getting to this party Lance wants you to go to?”

“Just me? Lance wants you to go, too.”

“He didn’t ask  _ me _ , he asked you.”

“Yeah, but I think he actually wants to be friends with you now. He’s a close one of my friends, Keith. I can read him. You know he was just jealous of you in ninth grade, right?”

“Ninth grade?”

“When your rivalry started. Well, it might’ve really kicked off in tenth. But it started in ninth.”

“Uh…”

She laughed shortly- it was almost more of a scoff. “Never mind, Kogane. Hunk will probably drive us there and go on his date. Lance might convince him to stay up so he can drive us home after said date. Who knows? Just be ready at whatever point.” She reluctantly fastened her helmet. “All right. Let’s go home.”

Keith swung his leg over the motorcycle seat and started it. Pidge hopped on, and Keith could hear her mutter, “Oh, Jesus Christ.”

That’s how he knew she was feeling better.

___________________

  
After popping in to see Mr. and Mrs. Holt for a couple minutes, Keith went to the gym since he hadn’t gone on Thursday. He forced himself to do leg workouts. He ran on the treadmill, too. He got a text from Pidge-  _ Hunk’s date is at 7, so he’s driving us all there after. Probably like 9:30. Maybe later. Who knows? _

He just said  _ Okay. _ He didn’t know how to feel about sneaking out to go to a party- and he  _ knew _ he’d have to sneak out because Shiro would never let him go unless he made a million promises he knew he wouldn’t have the self-control to keep.

He could almost imagine the conversation Shiro would have with him.  _ Are you sure you’ll be okay? _

_ Yes. _

_ Please don’t make stupid decisions, Keith. You don’t want any repeats _ -

At which point Keith was sure he would walk away from the conversation in order to avoid an argument.  _ I’m not 15 anymore, I’ve gotten over them, I’m fine. _

So he had to sneak out. Maybe he’d wait until Shiro fell asleep, or tell him he was going to Pidge’s. But what if he texted Matt, and Matt sold them out? There were too many  _ ifs _ -

_ Stop. _ He forced himself to think the word in his head as loud as he could.  _ Stop psyching yourself out. This is a simple teenager thing that teenagers do. Everyone does this easily so  _ stop  _ panicking. _

He couldn’t help absentmindedly scratching his wrist and nose, which he did when he was nervous. And then he got a text from Shiro.

_ Matt and I are playing DND until like 1 so don’t wait up. _

He tried to think of something Keith-y to say that would mask his relief.  _ As if I’ve ever waited up for you. _

He shut off his phone and went to his room to throw on black jeans and a red T-shirt. He figured this was what people wore to social things like parties. To pass the time, he did his homework and looked up YouTube videos on the Calc work he didn’t understand. Time flew by so fast, Keith got whiplash when his phone beeped a little before ten.  _ Keith, we’re coming to your house now, so I hope you’re not lounging around with just shorts on. _

Of course. Pidge.

_ I’m ready, stop being a dick. _

_ You know that’s impossible. _

Yeah. But it was one of the reasons he loved her. Minutes later, the horn outside beeped. Keith walked out and saw Hunk in the driver’s seat, looking like he was  _ glowing. _ Lance was in the passenger seat, obnoxiously dancing to whatever he was listening to on the radio. Pidge was in the backseat, her seat belt tucked behind her, tapping at her phone. Keith got in the backseat with Pidge. 

“Are you going to spend the whole party on your phone?” Lance complained.

“You said I had to go. You did  _ not _ say I would have to interact with anyone.”

“Pidge! It’s kind of a package deal!” Lance exclaimed. He twisted around in his seat and his whole back cracked loudly. His face lit up. “Did you guys  _ hear _ that?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Keith said. He couldn’t resist twisting around in his seat, cracking his back, too.

Lance’s face fell, but he immediately had a steely glare back. “Oh, it is  _ on _ . No one beats Lance at  _ bone cracking _ .” He went over both sets of knuckles, which was quickly mirrored by Keith. They both twisted their hands into positions that made Pidge cringe and Hunk turn up the music. Lance was the one still trying to mangle his hands while Keith continued making cracking sounds.

“I win,” he said, smiling triumphantly, holding up now-cracked hands.

Lance pouted. “No fair. I started before you.”

“But I was cracking my hands in new ways after you stopped.”

“I’ll beat you at beer pong,” Lance said.

“I’m not drinking.”

“Then what’s the point of even going?” Lance asked, disgusted. “No one there actually wants to be social, Keith. They want to be drunk.”

“Maybe I would rather be high while I try to deal with  _ your _ eccentric ass.”

Lance smiled in a way that was overtly bashful. “You think my ass is eccentric?” He asked in what sounded like he wanted it to be a sultry tone, but came out as more of a ten-year-old’s nasally, phlegm-filled voice.

Keith just stared at him. “Uh. How is that in any way a compliment?”

“Eccentricity isn’t a  _ bad _ thing!” Lance squeaked defensively.

“ _ Anyway _ ,” Keith said, eager to stop talking about Lance’s ass, “I’d rather be high than drunk. Drinking kills your liver.”

“ _ Marijuana _ ?” Lance frowned. “I didn’t peg you as a stoner.”

Pidge made a noise, but Keith wasn’t sure if it was a snort or an  _ Uh oh, this is territory Keith hates talking about! _ kind of sound. 

“Well, I used to like both, but I don’t drink anymore,” Keith said curtly, in a way that he hoped would get through even Lance’s thick skull as something _ not  _ to talk about. 

Lance, fortunately, was smarter than Keith ever gave him credit for and held his hands up in mock surrender. “All right, Mr. Emo, you can smoke your weed. Don’t think for a second they won’t make you pay.”

“They’ll smoke me up for free if they think it’s my first time,” Keith said.

“Or you could just hang out with Lance. He smokes weed at all these parties,” Pidge piped up. “He’s got _quite_ the stoner friend group.”

“Pidge, quit snitching,” Lance whined. “I go for the double kill, yes- weed and alcohol. But I try not to drink so much.”

Lance faced the front again. “So, Hunky Monkey, when are you picking us up?”

“I did  _ not _ agree to pick you up, Lance.”

“We need a ride  _ home _ , Hunk,” Lance grumbled. “Please?  _ Pretty _ please? With a cherry and everything? I’ll even put whipped cream on it.”

Keith figured Hunk rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t tell from his position. “Well, you know I’m a  _ sucker _ for whipped cream.”

“The real kind,” Lance added. “Not Cool Whip or whatever other garbage there is.”

“Perfect,” Hunk said dryly. “I’ll leave my ringer on, but if I don’t pick up, you need to Uber. Got it? _Don’t_ rely on me.”

“Pinky swear,” Lance said solemnly. Keith briefly wondered how unbearable Lance was when he was high if he was like this sober. “Look, there’s Jake's house!”

Keith remembered when he first saw Rolo, Jake's older brother who graduated two years ago. He was the first guy Keith ever flirted with. His feelings weren’t reciprocated, but Rolo hadn’t been a dick about it- just told Keith he was more interested in another girl. Keith had shrugged it off, but it had still hurt. He doubted Rolo still remembered the drunk 15-year-old confessing that he liked him.

He felt the worry growing in his stomach like weeds, working its way up his throat, gluing his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He didn’t budge out of the car, even when Pidge started tapping his shoulder. “Keith, are you okay?”

“Fine,” Keith said tightly, and he forced himself out of the car.

Pidge’s voice dropped, and Keith knew what she was about to say. “Keith, you don’t have to be here if you don’t want to be.”

“No,” Keith said adamantly. He took a deep breath. “I’m  _ not _ 15 anymore. Or 16. I’ll be fine, Pidge. Just high.”

“Okay,” Pidge said. “But I’m the sober friend, so I’m keeping an eye on you.”

“Yup,” Keith muttered.

“Ready?” Lance asked, climbing out of the passenger seat. He strode towards the house.

Keith shared one look with Pidge before they followed in suit.

_________________________________________________

  
He didn’t like the atmosphere of the party.

There were too many drunk kids. The entire living room was filled to the brim with sweaty bodies. Some were laughing, some were grinding, some were ragdolling. It wasn’t even 10:15. The stench of liquor infiltrated his nose. He felt dizzy just trying to get through them all.

Lance grabbed his wrist and said, “If you want weed, just follow me.” Keith tried not to let the shock of Lance’s almost unbearably warm hand get to him. He felt like he was getting secondhand drunk. The music was  _ so _ loud.

He was overwhelmed. Weed sounded like a good plan.

Lance led him out back, where a couple kids Keith barely recognized had joints and a gravity bong. One kid was pulling the water bottle up from the pitcher. Keith watched the bottle fill with thick, heavy, opaque smoke.

The kid laughed. “Who wants this hit?”

One of the girls in the group- Luxia? said, “Swirn, that will kill somebody. Split it with someone.”

Lance raised his hand. “I’m down.” He walked over to the gravity bong and gestured for Swirn to take the first hit. 

Keith watched Swirn take roughly half the smoke, cover the top, and pass it to Lance, who took the rest of the hit. 

Keith wished they were 21. It was legal to smoke recreational cannabis if you were over 21 years old. He wanted to hit himself- worrying? Now? Really? Lance turned around and beckoned Keith over. 

“Well, the party will be a lot more enjoyable if you take a hit,” Lance said. “You’ve got some choices. Joint, bong, or gravity bong?”

“Gravity,” Keith said. 

Swirn laughed. “Gravity bong? On your first try? Good luck.”

“It’s been a while,” Keith admitted. He watched Swirn light the bong up again. The other stoners were sitting in chairs or staring blankly into space, vague smiles on their faces. “But I can do it.”

Keith only got through a little less than half the smoke when he came off it, coughing. His throat burned. How did he forget how much gravity bongs hurt?

Lance finished it again, and it was clear the smoke was getting to him. “Are you good?” He asked, but he was smiling. Keith wasn’t sure if that was the work of marijuana or if he found Keith’s naivety funny.

“I’m fine,” Keith said, wheezing. “I guess I shouldn’t jump straight into a gravity bong after so long.”

“How long?”

“Years.”

“Jesus Christ, Keith,” Lance groaned. “Obviously not. Finish someone else’s bong hit or something, don’t try to make it all your own.” He fished a small package with a few greens from his pocket. He started up a bong and left about a third of the smoke in it after his hit. “Now take it.”

They operated like that for a few hits before Keith took his own. Yeah- it was getting to him. He shook his head, and he was smiling. It was like nothing that had happened earlier that day mattered. “Let’s go find Pidge.”

“Okay,” Lance agreed. His eyes were red. Not that Keith was looking that closely. His head was swirling. Laughter bubbled up from inside him- where had that come from?- and he followed Lance into the house.

He couldn’t even remember why Friday had been so hard. There wasn’t a single worry in the world for him right now. 

Lance had been right- it was a lot easier to live with the sweaty bodies now that he was high. They found Pidge by the beer pong table, playing again Jake. “Bring it on, Reedus!” Pidge shouted over the music. Keith and Lance watched them play. Jake was a champion at beer pong, but maybe Pidge was good with velocity and a bunch of other sciencey bullshit that helped her win. Or just dumb luck.

She threw her hands up in the air when her ping pong went into Jake's last cup. “Fuck yeah, bitches!” She shouted. She was drinking. 

Lance walked over and said, “Hey, Pidge, I bet I could beat you.”

Pidge scoffed. “Yeah, right. I just beat  _ Jake _ .”

“Sounds like you’re scared,” Lance baited.

In her intoxicated state, she took it. “I’m not scared! Someone help me set up another round, I’m gonna beat Lance’s ass into the ground!”

“I’m gonna play winner!” Keith said. A few other people who had been watching Rolo and Pidge were setting up more beer pong tables. 

Keith watched Lance and Pidge go back and forth. His head was still spinning, and he kept laughing for no reason. Then Lance was beckoning him forward, filling beer pong cups. “I beat Pidge!” He gloated. 

Pidge was drinking from another red solo cup. “By one cup,” she said, her face pink. “ _ One _ cup!”

Keith frowned and walked towards the other end. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to play. The music was putting colors in his face. “Okay,” he said uncertainly. He tossed a ping pong ball- it bounced off the rim of a cup and went to the side. Someone caught it and gave it to Lance.

Lance beat Keith easily, despite having smoked significantly more. Was Lance drinking from the beer pong cups even though Keith didn’t get them in? He was going to hate himself tomorrow.

But Lance sure didn’t hate himself just then. “Come on, Keithy!” His words were slurred. “Let’s dance?”

“I can’t dance,” Keith said. He was stricken by Lance’s eyes.  _ Fuck. Seriously? Not again. _ He decided it was only because he was high.

“Oh, yes you can,” Lance said. He pulled on Keith’s arms until both of them were stuck between  _ somebody  _ and  _ somebody else’s _ sweaty body. Lance's eyes widened and his pupils seemed to dilate. “Holy shit.”

“You good?” 

Lance coughed. “Yeah.” He started moving Keith’s arms, trying to find a beat to dance to, but his movements were slowed like he was dancing in sludge. “Dance?” He said it like he wasn’t sure.

“Let’s just go outside and smoke more weed.”

“Sounds good!” Lance grinned and they stumbled outside. Keith was sure Lance was gone- should he really let Lance keep smoking? 

“Hey, w-wait…” But the thought was lost in his head. How were they already outside? He’d just taken a hit- that was smoke in front of him. Smoke from his mouth. And his gums felt weirdly dry. Lance laughed. 

“You’re smiling so wide, I think it’s painful,” Lance said.

Keith tried to close his mouth. There, now his gums weren’t quite so pained. Soon enough, he was grinning like a maniac again. He was definitely high. Too high. How low was his tolerance? 

He and Lance sat down on some lawn chairs about twenty feet out from the other stoners. They stared up at the sky, which was cloudless. It was slightly chilly, but it didn’t register with Keith how cold it was in the middle of January. 

“Why’d you hate me so much?”

“Stupid shit,” Lance answered in a faraway voice. He took another hit from his joint. “Fuck, I’m baked.”

Keith nodded and almost slipped into sleep. “Whoa. I’m tired.” Lance hummed and took yet another hit. Was he really this much of a stoner?  _ Well _ , Keith supposed,  _ everyone is. I don’t know anyone that hasn’t tried weed except Pidge. _

“Keith, are we friends?”

“Oh yeah,” Keith said, smiling again, still on the verge of sleep. “We are definitely friends.”


	4. Cleopatra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cleopatra by The Lumineers https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W1Oggwr6zh4
> 
> "wE HaD a bOnDIng mOMenT"

Keith  _ knew _ he’d fallen asleep because he woke up in his bed that morning with no memory of getting there.

He tried to recall everything that had happened. It came slow, and like a mud waterfall. He wondered where Pidge was. He wasn’t drunk, so his memories came back, despite being slightly foggy, since marijuana can cause memory loss. Somehow, Hunk’s instincts told him that the three of them were not calling an Uber. He came to the house… 

Keith vaguely remembered being woken up and stumbling out to the car. How had he gotten so high? He definitely didn’t drink anything. Wait… he played beer pong? But not a lot. Maybe his tolerance was just  _ really _ low. He didn’t smoke that often with Shiro anymore. And they hadn’t used gravity bongs  _ ever _ . He’d used one of those freshmen year and that was it.

Hunk belted everyone in and snuck Pidge in her window. Then he took Keith home, but Shiro was up waiting… Keith simply walked upstairs and ignored Shiro. Shiro told Hunk he could go home, thank you so much for getting Keith here, he doesn’t deserve you as a friend, Jesus Christ he’s in for an ass whooping tomorrow.

It was now Saturday morning. Was Shiro awake? Home? At work?

He tentatively walked down the stairs and tried to casually find coffee.

He was on the last step when it creaked. He heard Shiro clear his throat. He walked into the kitchen, cringing. Shiro was sitting on a stool, stirring coffee.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” Keith said, his voice tight. He shuffled towards the refrigerator and opened it. He knew. He remembered everything. Shiro was  _ not _ happy.

“I came home from my little hangout last night. At 12:30. I came in extra quiet because I didn’t want to wake you up. I fell asleep on the couch.”

Keith wasn’t sure what to say. Did Shiro  _ want _ a response? “I fell asleep on my bed.” Not a lie. They both knew that wasn’t a lie. 

“Oh, don’t worry. I know.”

The way he said it only served to make Keith even more anxious than before. “So, how was your sleep?”

“Good. Then I went upstairs because you left your backpack down here. I figured I’d just take it up, real quiet. Then I saw you weren’t in your bed. Can you imagine how surprised I was?”

“I could certainly imagine it,” Keith said, staring down at his coffee mug.

“Now is  _ not _ the time to get smart. You should’ve been smart  _ before _ you snuck out to a party.”

“Would you have let me go?”

“Not unless you swore you wouldn’t do anything. And now that you’ve proven you would? Probably not. I came back downstairs after seeing your room was empty and waited, having no idea where you were, suspecting you were doing something along those lines.”

“So, are you mad?”

“Mad? No. Really insanely worried? Definitely. Keith, did you know how nervous I was that you would come home, vomiting and crying?”

Keith balled his fists. “I am  _ not _ 15 fucking years old anymore!”

“Watch your language,” Shiro warned. “I know you’re 18, and I know you think you can make all these decisions now. You’ve  _ always _ been like that. Truth be told, Keith, I don’t even think I’d let  _ myself _ go to a party without people I trust. At least Hunk got you home. You were talking to yourself when you walked in the door and after Hunk left and I went to go check on you, you were  _ still _ talking to yourself.”

“What was I saying?” Keith felt his face grow warm.

“‘Bi boh bi.’ Over and over. I have _ no idea  _ what you were trying to say, if anything.”

“That’s not so bad.”

Shiro went in for the kill. “Did Pidge go with you?”

Keith’s throat closed. “No.”

“If I get even one text from Matt saying that Pidge is acting weird, I’m going to ask you again.”

“She’s fine. She didn’t want to go. You know how Pidge is with social events.” Keith was surprised the words came so easily, since he was a terrible liar. Then again, it wasn’t a very difficult lie.

“I also thought I knew that  _ you _ hated parties.”

“Oh, I totally do,” Keith said. “Weed? After last night, I kind of enjoyed it. Until I started drinking. Shiro, I had  _ fun _ , okay? I made a new friend!”

“A new friend,” Shiro repeated. 

“Well… I think.” Was Lance a  _ new _ friend? Did he even remember them becoming friends? He was pretty sure Lance had been drinking when Keith wasn’t paying attention. He thought of the stoners- “Maybe even a couple. I was being social. Yes, I was high. But I _ wasn’t _ out of control. Ask Pidge!” 

“You said Pidge didn’t go.”

He cursed himself. “Well, uh yeah. Duh. Yeah. She asked me if I was sure beforehand. You know, cause of everything that’s happened.”

Shiro took a sip of his coffee and narrowed his eyes. “Try not to get extremely fucked up like that again.” 

Keith knew that when Shiro cursed like that, things were serious. “I wasn’t planning on it. Seriously, I overestimated my tolerance. I thought I’d be fine.”

“And this isn’t turning into another five or six times a week thing.”

“Of course not. I probably won’t go to another party.”

“And you’ll text me if you do. Or tell me.”

“Yes, Takashi. Do you want everyone else’s phone number, too?” Keith knew Shiro wasn’t being unreasonable. He was actually significantly better than he had been expecting. 

Shiro took a deep breath and a long sip of coffee. “Just be safe, Keith. I  _ know _ I’m not your dad, I’m just your brother, but I… I don’t want to… I don’t want to feel like I’m going to…” He struggled to word his sentence. “I don’t want to be on the verge of losing you again.”

Keith’s throat almost locked. “I swear it won’t happen this time, Shiro. No drinking, minimal weed. How was DnD with Matt yesterday?”

It wasn’t a smooth transition. Shiro smiled, like he knew Keith was changing the subject on purpose. Keith wasn’t surprised- he wasn’t that good at being slick. “We’re almost done with our campaign.”

“Fun?”

“Did you meet anyone last night? Who are your new friends? Hunk, perhaps?”

“I-  _ Hunk _ ? No!” Keith liked Hunk, and he was one of the more attractive guys Keith had seen in his life, but- “No. Hunk’s just a friend. Don’t you think I’d tell you if I met someone?” Keith couldn’t help the flush as he thought of Lance’s eyes again, and the way Lance had decided to hang out with Keith last night, and how Lance’s hair looked  _ really _ soft-

“You’re very reserved. It’s a little worrying sometimes, but I think you’re turning out all right.” Shiro frowned, and their conversation came full circle. “At least, I thought I did, before last night.”

“I’m okay,” Keith promised. For once, he believed it.

 

_____________________________________

  
Keith slept easier that night than he had in months. And Sunday night. But Monday morning, he was stricken with sudden, irrational fear.

What if Hunk was annoyed and never wanted to talk to Keith again because he’d had to talk to Shiro? What if Pidge was angry that Keith let her drink? What if she’d gotten caught, and the Holts- oh God, Mr. and Mrs. Holt, and  _ Matt _ ? What if they blamed him? Obviously they would think of him first, he had so many problems when Pidge was an eighth grader and he was a ninth grader…

Keith slumped on his motorcycle. And what if Lance didn’t remember them resolving their differences and becoming friends? Was he reading too much into it? Were they only weed buddies, not actual friends? 

He tried not to think about it. He was so distracted by the prospect of losing all his friends because of that one party, his day went by relatively fast. He found his hand frozen on the door handle to Mr. Hutch’s room, just after the lunch bell rang.

What if Pidge told him to leave? What if she was grounded? What if Lance hated him all over again? What if-

“Uh, Keith, are you okay?”

Keith turned so quickly he thought his neck broke. “Oh, uh, hey, Hunk. S-so, uh, I’m… sorry about… Friday.”

Swollen tongue. Closed-up throat. Hunk looked confused, and Keith felt the panic rising up like he was a thermometer about to burst-

“Dude, don’t worry about it. I came back. Anyway, Pidge and I are almost done with the Bio project, so don’t worry, we’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

“Out of…?” Keith trailed off. “Are you sure? I mean, you kind of… well, you put up with a lot on Friday. I wasn’t exactly… easy to deal with… and you had to talk to  _ Shiro… _ ”

“Your brother?” Hunk frowned, and then laughed. “Dude, your brother was totally cool about it. He apologized to me, and then he let me off to go shove Lance’s ass back in his house. I still have to go whoop Pidge-”

He opened the door and gestured for Keith to go first. Keith walked over to his chair, Hunk close behind. 

“Pidge,” Hunk said, “do you know how difficult it is to sneak a life-size ragdoll into her room?”

Pidge had the decency to look sheepish. She glanced around- Mr. Hutch wasn’t in the room. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry, you’re the best. But listen- I didn’t even wake up with a headache. I slept off the whole hangover. Matt asked if I stayed up late. No one suspected  _ anything _ !”

She was grinning. “I mean… you don’t want to do it  _ again _ , do you?” Keith asked nervously.

She blushed. “Maybe. But not a lot, of course. I’m not trying to scare you. See, just a couple times. If that.”

“Never thought I’d see the day Pidge wants to go to a party,” Hunk said, whistling.

“Don’t tell Lance, he’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

“You? The desire to  _ party _ ?” Hunk put a hand across his forehead dramatically. 

Pidge groaned. “Never mind, we won’t go, even if there’s probably gonna be stuff at the party for the end of the semester…”

Hunk shook his head. “You know I’m not a partier.”

Lance walked through the door. “What about parties?”

“Pidge-” Hunk was cut off by a loud and angry cough from Pidge. “She, uh, didn’t like it.”

“Not surprised,” Lance said nonchalantly, “but at least you went to this one instead of one of the many on Friday. That will probably be a  _ lot _ more out of control. I was so proud when you beat Jake at beer pong, by the way.”

“Beer pong?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember playing him. Or  _ me _ . I beat you.”

“I, uh-” Pidge frowned. “Maybe. It’s fuzzy. I remember playing a lot of beer pong. I don’t remember playing you. You  _ beat _ me?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lance said, grinning.

“I don’t believe you,” she said defiantly.

“Ask Keith!” Lance squeaked. “He was there! Keith, tell her about how I beat her!”

“He  _ did _ beat you,” Keith admitted.

“You were high out of your mind! How’d you remember?”

“Don’t feel bad. He beat me, too,” Keith said. 

Pidge snorted. “You suck, Keith. I was good.  _ So _ good. I was playing all night. People were too drunk to really know me, plus it was a mostly senior party. I only saw like, two other juniors.”

“He  _ did _ suck,” Lance clarified. “Like, a lot. But that’s okay. Even though I was  _ really _ drunk.”

“You can’t make fun of me,” Keith protested. “We had a bonding moment!”

“Nope, don’t remember, didn’t happen,” Lance said, smirking.

Keith stared. “You don’t remember?”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Of course I remember, Keith. I don’t forget things when I’m drunk. Family gift, my cousins are the same way. I remember everything. Including, ‘we are definitely friends.’ And your nice little smile to go with it.”

Keith turned just a little pink. “I was… I was just… I was high!”

“So we’re not friends?”

“No,” Keith argued, “we  _ are  _ friends!”

The tips of his ears turned pink when he noticed Pidge and Hunk watching them- Pidge looked like she was watching  _ him _ . “We’re weed buddies,” Keith said weakly.

There was a beat of silence and then Lance burst into laughter. “Weed buddies,” he repeated, grinning. “Yeah, okay. Maybe this weekend.”

Hunk turned on a computer and logged in. “So, English,” Keith said. “Wanna help me again?”

“Mullet needs my help?” Lance made a  _ pfft _ sound. “Of course he does.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“Yeah. Did you get a packet today?”

“Haven’t had English yet.”

“Well, Steele gives the English presentation rubrics back. We got a packet with notes about Shakespeare’s techniques. Then we have to annotate Sonnet 12 for those techniques and write a short paragraph about said techniques in comparison to what we put in our presentations.”

“We have to do a whole packet in one day?”

“It’s only like, three pages, and it’s due tomorrow if you don’t finish. I can help you tomorrow at lunch. But we’ve both had Chemistry, right? What was that today about the Aufbau diagram?”

“It’s actually really simple once you understand it…”

Keith felt good being able to confidently explain everything they’d learned in Chemistry. Well, reviewed from sophomore year, when they’d taken Chemistry. Still, he felt like he was finally doing something  _ right _ .

Things were relatively pleasant for the next couple of days. Keith and Lance helped each other during lunch. Despite Lance still dropping rivalry jokes, Keith felt like they actually  _ were _ friends. Pidge teased him because he wasn’t quite so much “the loner” anymore. 

Tuesday at lunch, Keith and Lance went over Chemistry for their tests. Then Keith had studied all Wednesday night for Calc, but he still wasn’t sure how he did on the test in first period. Thursday at lunch, Lance walked in and slapped a packet on the table.

“Bam!” He grinned and pointed at the score. “48 out of 50! Definitely thanks to you, Mullet.”

Keith smiled and pulled the English assignment that he was supposed to link to his presentation, which had a 37/40 and a note that said,  _ Significant improvement! _ at the top. “You helped me with English.”

“We  _ are _ a good team,” Lance said, whistling. “A’s all around for the end of the semester.”

Keith cringed. “Maybe not all A’s. I don’t know how I did on that Calculus test. Pidge did her best, but…” Keith shrugged helplessly. “Mr. Ahkles is not gonna be happy with me.”

“Mr. Ahkles is the worst,” Lance groaned. “He can’t teach worth shit. I went to Mr. Smythe and he switched me into Mr. Hawkins’s class. That’s the only reason I even passed.”

“I thought Mr. Ahkles was a good teacher. No one in my class is failing,” Keith said.

“Mr. Ahkles is awful,” Lance said. “Mr. Hawkins saved my life last year. Go to Mr. Smythe and ask if you can get switched.”

“Mr. Smythe…” 

Keith guessed he had a  _ look _ on his face, because Lance scrunched his eyebrows and said, “Do you not like him?”

“No,” Keith answered quickly, “no, no, I do like him, I just… didn’t think I’d have to see him.”

Lance’s one eyebrow was still quirked, but he shrugged. “If you say so. Anyways, can you help me with this Chemistry bullshit?”

Fifteen minutes to the end of lunch, Keith said he was going to go to Mr. Smythe and ask to switch. Lance and Pidge wished him luck; Hunk had gone out to get water. 

It was only when he was outside Mr. Smythe’s door that he realized he should’ve made sure he’d even be available. What if Mr. Smythe had another student in there? And what if Mr. Smythe was annoyed that Keith would try to switch so late in the semester?

Keith swallowed all his worry (as difficult as that was), and knocked on the door. 

“Come in!”

Keith opened the door slowly, cringing when it creaked. “Uh, hey, Mr. Smythe,” he said. “Long time no see.”

Immediately, he wanted to hit himself. Really?  _ Long time no see _ ? _ And he’s probably been perfectly happy without me, _ Keith thought bitterly. 

“Indeed! So what brings you here?” Mr. Smythe asked. He frowned at his name plaque and picked it up to polish it, before setting it back.  _ Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe _ . Keith wondered how they fit all those letters on that tiny little plaque, and then he wondered who named their kid  _ Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton _ . 

“I, uh, need a schedule change.”

“A schedule change? Out of what?” Mr. Smythe started tapping at his computer, pulling up Keith’s schedule.

“Mr. Ahkles’s first period. I need to change teachers,” Keith said. He fidgeted, rubbing his thumb against the side of his index finger. “I, uh, I can’t do… him. His class. He doesn’t… he’s not…” Keith fumbled with his words. “

Mr. Smythe raised an eyebrow. “I’m not actually supposed to switch classes just because of the teachers. Technically, there has to be a reason. And Keith, I know you hate it, but I know you. There’s a reason in there, trying to worm its way out!”

“He said I was a bad student, but Lance said Mr. Hawkins was a really good teacher,” Keith blurted out.

Immediately, he blushed and sunk in his chair. Snitching on Mr. Ahkles- was it even really snitching?- was not something he wanted to do.

“He said you were a bad student?” Mr. Smythe asked. This was in one of his voices like after Keith got in a fight. Serious, and almost  _ angry _ , but not at Keith.

Keith threw his head back miserably and stared at the ceiling. “He said that me failing the test made him look bad, so he said I was just a bad student, but I needed to focus better.”

Mr. Smythe didn’t say anything for a few moments, just stared at Keith with his hands clasped together in front of his mustache, leaning on his elbows. Then, abruptly, he said, “That’s exactly what he said?”

“Yes,” Keith said, unsure now. “More or less.”

“He said you were a bad student, and you made him look like a bad teacher?”

“Yes,” Keith said, still not understanding Mr. Smythe’s tone.

Silence again. Keith was rubbing the side of his index finger with his thumb a bit faster now. Mr. Smythe’s eyes were wide.

Abruptly, again, he stood up and said, “Go back to lunch. Excuse me. I’m going to change your classes, but I need to speak with Mr. Ahkles.”

“W-wait, no, don’t-” Keith panicked. Mr. Ahkles would know it had been Keith who went to Mr. Smythe. “Mr. Ahkles will be  _ mad _ -”

“Keith, this kind of behavior from a teacher is unacceptable.”

“Please just switch me and don’t tell him I said anything,” Keith practically begged. 

“I won’t mention your name-”

“ _ Please _ ,” Keith added. “He’ll know it was me, and that’ll make tomorrow awkward.”

Mr. Smythe sighed and sat down. “Fine. You’ll get the schedule change. I’ll make sure of it. Enjoy your weekend, Keith.”

“Thanks, Mr. Smythe.” Keith stood up too fast and awkwardly saluted before walking out of the office, cursing himself. 

He went back to Mr. Hutch’s room, but he only stayed for about five minutes before the bell rang again. 

That night, Shiro came home from work and told Keith that he and the guy from Physics were going to the coffeehouse at 7.

“Who goes on a date on a Thursday?” Keith scoffed.

“Matt’s busy and he asked me,” Shiro explained. “So why not? It’s just coffee and a small date.”

“Yeah, yeah. How do you manage to attract so many guys?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’d feel better if you got a date,” Shiro said slyly. 

“I- what? Who would even-” Keith spluttered, face flushing. “I don’t need a  _ date _ !”

“So, you got someone on your mind, or…?”

“Shut up, Shiro.”  _ If anyone, Lance. But I don’t like Lance. I just think he’s attractive.  _ Wait, did he admit that to himself yet?

“Oh, that’s a  _ yes _ ?” Shiro leaned on the kitchen counter, smiling, teasing. “Was it Hunk? He was sweet. I still think you like Hunk.”

“I don’t like Hunk!” Keith squawked, blushing. “Not like  _ that _ ,” he added, just to be clear that he did like  _ Hunk _ . 

“So who is it, Keithy?”

“No one.”

“Uh huh,” Shiro said still grinning. “Sure. I’m going upstairs to change. Do you have any plans for today or tomorrow?”

“Uh, there’s another party,” Keith said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. His face was still on fire and his heart was beating way too rapidly. “So… I was going to go there. With friends. For the end of the semester.”

Shiro didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at Keith with his lips pressed in a tight line and his eyebrows scrunched. “Okay,” he said. “No drinking.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Keith.”

“Listen, I  _ probably _ won’t. Honest. But I might play a game of beer pong. That’s it. Don’t worry!”

“Keith!  _ No _ , okay? Smoking, I can live with. Drinking? Absolutely  _ not _ -”

“Oh, come  _ on _ , Shiro! Didn’t you ever drink as a teenager?”

Shiro set his jaw. “No drinking, or you can’t go.”

Keith glared. “Fine. No drinking. Not even beer pong. Just smoking.”

“And try not to come home completely stoned.”

Keith rolled his neck. “Got it, Grandpa.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes. “You have it so much better than half your friends, who have to sneak out and aren’t allowed to smoke at all.”

“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy your date, Takashi.” He couldn’t help resenting Shiro for putting restrictions on him. He didn’t like being controlled, even a little bit, even for his own good. He knew Shiro was right, but that didn’t mean he liked it.

Truthfully, Keith  _ was _ glad Shiro was so easygoing. He could’ve had it a lot worse. He might still play beer pong with Pidge or Lance- the smoke would cover up any beer smell. What was being 18 without a little rebellion?


	5. Sober Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Date rape drugs (No sexual assault occurs but someone is drugged.)
> 
> Sober Up by AJR: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DC_TrsY7U3A

 

  
**Chapter 5 (Trigger Warning: Date rape drugs)**

“Nyma’s parents are out of town this weekend, so that’s where a party is,” Lance said, leaning back in his chair and scrolling through his phone. “Who’s coming tonight?”

“Only  _ a _ party? Not  _ the _ party?” Pidge teased.

“I’m  _ not _ going,” Hunk said. “I am absolutely, definitely, 100% not saving your asses again. You can wake up on her front lawn for all I care. Lyft, Uber, another sober person- I don’t care. You’re not coming in my car. It smelled like weed for three  _ days _ , Lance!”

“Sorry,” Keith said awkwardly, wincing.

“Mr. Pothead definitely smelled worse than you did,” Hunk reassured him. “I found him with a half-smoked joint on his chest. Thank  _ Christ _ it went out before his whole fucking shirt caught on fire-”

“Nyma’s party will be great, Pidge.” Lance said loudly, avoiding Hunk. He looked at Keith. “Is it only gonna be the two of us?” 

Keith couldn’t suppress the smile that crept onto his face. “Yeah, I think it’ll just be us.” His eyes slid to Pidge.

She glared. “I might go…  _ if _ you guys want a third person.”

“Pidge wants to go to the party?” Lance grinned and sat up. “My Pidgey? What is this, a clone?”

“No, asshole,” Pidge said, glaring and crossing her arms. “I just want to go so you two don’t feel so awkward!”

“Yeah, we’d probably kill each other without supervision,” Lance said conversationally. “But that means Keith has to DD.”

“What?” Keith sat up indignantly. “I don’t want to!”

“Then buy an Uber.”

“I don’t want to pay.”

“Pidge?”

“No.”

“Sorry, Keith.” 

“Why can’t you? I don’t have a car, I just have the motorcycle. So it should be you.”

Hunk interrupted their argument. “How about you two play rock, paper, scissors? Just once, no 2 out of 3 stuff.”

“Loser has to DD,” Keith said, smiling confidently. Lance probably thought he was a rock kind of guy, which meant he had to play scissors. He felt ashamed for putting that much effort into rock, paper,  scissors, but he  _ really _ didn’t want to DD. They played one round- Lance played paper, Keith played scissors, Lance threw his head back and groaned in frustration, Keith laughed. 

“No way!” Lance argued. “I don’t want to drive! I don’t want to not drink!”

“We can’t even play beer pong together,” Pidge said sadly. “I’ll just have to play against random seniors.”

Keith shrugged, still smiling, and logged into the computer. It was the last day of the semester. He should’ve been freaking out about papers to turn in. But when he pulled up his grades, he had a solid 3.4 GPA. He was weirdly okay with it not being a 3.5 or higher. He had three more classes and then he’d be done. Whatever was going to happen would happen. It felt strangely freeing to suddenly not care.

He looked at his schedule for next semester. “Do any of you guys have your schedules for next week?” He asked, looking over his shoulder. He saw  _ Mr. Hawkins _ next to period 1 Calculus and couldn’t help the overwhelming joy that spread through his heart. 

Pidge wheeled over to him. “I memorized mine. Um, we don’t have anything together. Again.”

“What the  _ heck _ ,” Keith groaned. He looked to Hunk and Lance. “What about you two?”

Lance pulled out his phone. “We have Chem and English together. Hey, we don’t have to waste time on that at lunch!”

Hunk glanced over Keith’s shoulder. He had memorized his like Pidge. “I have a bunch of classes with Pidge, one with Pidge and Lance, and none with you. Sucks, dude.”

“Great. I have two classes with one friend.” Keith sank in his chair. His good mood was gone. He didn’t really  _ have _ any other friends.

Lance looked at Hunk’s schedule (which was also on his phone, since Hunk had sent it to him). “Man, Hunk, sometimes I forget how smart you are. You finished AP Calc last year.”

“Got a 5 on the test, too.”

“Hey!” Pidge put her hands on her hips. “Hunk’s already the friendly one and the cooking one.  _ I’m _ the smart one!”

“What am I?” Lance asked. 

“The goofball.”

“I am not! I’m, like, the heartthrob of the group.”

Keith stifled a light chuckle. “Are you joking?”

“Listen, did you  _ see _ Nyma all over me the other day?” Lance sat back, arms crossed confidently. “Pidge has no love life, you have no love life, and Hunk  _ would _ have a love life if he wanted but he doesn’t. I have a love life! I’m the heartthrob!”

“What does that make me?” Keith asked.

“The loner,” Pidge said. 

“I’m not a loner anymore!” Keith protested.

“You’re the most loner out of all of us,” Pidge argued. “Who do you talk to except us? That  _ goes to this school _ ,” she added when she saw his lips moving to say  _ Shiro and Matt _ . 

Keith opened and closed his mouth like a fish and frowned. “Maybe I’m happy without that many friends, Katie.”

“Keithy? Never call me Katie in this establishment again,” Pidge said, her voice sweet, her smile wide. “I will slit your throat.”

“Pidgey Poo, that’s a little violent,” Lance said.

“ _ Lancey Lance _ , I’ll kill you, too,” Pidge answered.

“Guys,” Hunk said, “please calm down.” Then he stood up and smiled. “I’m off to hang out with Shay. We’re going in for Cooking 4.”

“Ooh la la,” Lance teased. “I take back what I said about Hunk not having a love life!”

Hunk blushed a deep scarlet. “Shush it, Lance! We went on  _ one _ date! Hopefully a lot more to come, though.”

“I still don’t have a love life,” Keith said, monotone.

“Neither do I,” Pidge said. “A girl would be nice, but not right now.”

Lance smiled dreamily. “ _ Nyma _ would be real nice to get a date with.”

Pidge scrunched her nose. Then she was giving Lance her evil little grin again. “Mr. Designated Driver.”

“I won’t take you!”

“You’ll take me, though, right?” Keith questioned.

“Sure,” Lance said genially. “Just not the gremlin.”

“Hey!” Pidge objected. “I can’t drive! I totally would if I could, but I’d rather play beer pong.”

Lance started working on an AP Spanish packet and was almost finished when the bell rang. Pidge was fiddling with a puzzle cube. The rest of Keith’s day seemed to drag by. He wanted to go to the party. He would just get a little buzzed, not so much that he couldn’t carry on a conversation with Shiro. 

When Keith got home, Shiro was still at work. Pidge texted him and said Lance would come by around 10. Keith didn’t have anything to do except go to the gym for about 2 hours, so he did that.

He ran on the treadmill, he did push-ups, he did crunches and leg work, he did everything and by the end of it all, three hours had passed. It was 6:12 when he got a text from Shiro.

_ I’m meeting up with a teacher and then going on another date with the guy from Physics. Be safe! :) _

Keith cringed at the happy face emoji at the end of Shiro’s message, but now he could get extremely high and still be able to get back in without Shiro finding out. Did he really want to? Why not? Should he? He texted Shiro back.

_ Just text me when you’re on your way home? _

_ Sure. _

Keith drove home and showered. He didn’t want to smell like sweat. Besides, didn’t he want to look his best in case someone caught his eye?

He briefly wondered where  _ that _ thought had come from. He hadn’t been romantically interested in… well,  _ romance _ since his accidental  _ coming-out _ in sixth grade (the  _ first _ one). There’d been small crushes, sure- but no one could repress feelings like Keith. It was even worse, because now every time he thought something along the lines of romance,  _ Lance _ was the first guy to pop into his head.

He pulled on a black hoodie and started watching  _ Stranger Things _ while waiting for Pidge to text him and say she and Lance were outside. Shiro had finally convinced Keith to try out the series, but he wasn’t very far in at all. 

He could imagine Lance pouting the whole way over-  _ can’t we leave him there? _ \- But he pushed that thought away. They were  _ friends _ now. Weren’t they?

_ Why is this so hard for you? _ He thought to himself.

He was just up to the part where the man at the diner was giving Eleven a burger when a notification popped up on his screen-  _ We’re outside, Mullet _ .

It was from an unknown number.

He walked outside and saw a nice blue car in the driveway. It looked like it could seat 7 people. He got in the backseat and pulled on his seatbelt.

“Color me impressed, McClain,” Keith said.

“You like the car?” Lance asked, beaming. There was the smug undertone, but Lance looked more like a happy dork than anything else. 

Pidge bounced around in the front seat, scanning and investigating every inch of the car. “It’s  _ so _ cool!” She gushed. 

“If Pidge likes it, it must be nice,” Keith said, grinning.

“I love this car more than myself, so if either of you taint it, I’ll have your head,” Lance warned. He turned a corner at almost 20 miles per hour, but it felt smoother than any turn Keith had done in his life. 

Lance had been five minutes late to Keith’s, and there was heavy traffic between Keith’s house and Nyma’s. They got there at 10:22 (Keith checked his watch) and Pidge ran off to find a beer pong table. 

“Help me find the stoners?” Keith asked. He filled a red solo cup with something that was mixed. He took one sip and gagged- it was probably vodka and fireball and a million other high-percentage alcohols. 

“Great, so you can rub you smoking in my face?” Lance pouted. “I guess. Luxia and Swirn should be around the house since it’s a little too cold outside. Maybe they’re upstairs in a bathroom?”

All at once, Keith was struck with the realization that if he was high and Lance was not, he might say something that Lance wouldn’t laugh off. Maybe he’d even say something… about those fucking eyes. He held the solo cup a little tighter. A stupid, intoxicated kid with a sober kid? Never a good combination.

“Are you okay?” Lance asked. “You blanched.”

Keith squeaked, “I’m fine,” and swallowed more of the awful mixture to cover up his embarrassment. “Let’s go, yeah?” He coughed and put the cup down.

In retrospect, he shouldn’t have taken that huge gulp. ( _ That, _ he decided the next day, drinking scorching black coffee from a bowl, _ was my downfall. _ )

They found four kids upstairs in a bathroom that had a huge tub. They were sitting in it (thankfully clothed, without the tub filled), laughing and talking to each other.

“Give it one hour,” Lance murmured. “They’ll be blankly staring at you or passed out in just one hour.”

One of them- Swirn?- turned and looked at Keith. “Oh, you’re back. Hey, Lance. Fancy a hit?” He gestured to a glass bong shaped like a dragon. 

“Wish I could, but I’m driving,” Lance said. 

“I’m so impressed,” Keith said. “You’re  _ very _ strong in the face of peer pressure.”

“Shut it, Kogane,” Lance said, but he was smiling.

Keith gave Swirn $15 and he showed him how to use the dragon-shaped bong. Keith took four hits and turned around to look at Lance, already smiling with the easy feeling of the high.

Maybe that’s when it hit him.

He saw Lance looking on, amused. “You good, Keith? We should probably go find Pidge.”

Lance was the most attractive boy Keith had ever seen in his life. Sure, he’d thought Lance was good-looking, but he’d never really  _ realized  _ that he thought he was attractive because he was attracted  _ to _ him. Like, sure, Lance was attractive, but Keith wasn’t attracted  _ to _ him. Except maybe he was? Keith stared at him, and Lance shifted uncomfortably. “Is something wrong, Keith?”

“N-no,” Keith stuttered. “Nothing’s wrong. The weed felt funny, that’s all.”

Lance visibly relaxed. “Oh, all right.” Keith took more hits to compensate for the embarrassment. He willed the blush in his cheeks away. He didn’t want to look at Lance at all- he couldn’t afford to think Lance was attractive, because that meant liking Lance. And liking Lance meant… 

Keith squeezed his eyes shut and took another hit. 

When Keith was done smoking about half of what he paid for he realized Lance had left and said to Swirn, “I’ll come back.” It was probably a bit more slurred than that- he felt like gravity was pulling on him personally. His lips felt heavy on his face. He took the small baggie of weed he had left and shoved it in his pocket.

He went downstairs, but it still felt like everything was pushing on him at once.  _ Gravity itself is against me _ , he thought somewhat coherently, before tripping on the last stair. 

And then some boy- Keith couldn’t recognize him through his half-lidded eyes- was next to Keith, and slurring. “Hey there, pretty boy.”

“Hey yourself,” Keith muttered. His breath was hot on Keith’s neck. He found himself basking in the sudden attention.

“Wanna go somewhere?”

“Yeah,” Keith said. He could find Lance later. He let the boy pull him down the stairs into the laundry room. Keith hopped onto the washing machine and the other boy started kissing him. It might’ve been the weed, it might’ve been the drinks, but Keith felt a wave of courage when he kissed this guy.

“You’re really hot,” the other guy said eloquently.

“Thanks,” Keith replied. At least he was pretty sure that’s what he said.

He didn’t know how long it’d been- a couple minutes? Twenty?- but someone burst into the laundry room.

“Keith, what the  _ fuck _ are you doing?”

The other boy practically jumped away from him. “Shit, I didn’t know he had a boyfriend,” he said, backing out of the room.

“I’m not- we’re not- you’re fine,” Lance said, exasperated. He tugged Keith down from the washing machine and pushed his bangs out of his face. “Are you okay?”

“Lance?” Keith squinted at him. Lance’s eyes were right in front of his. He could lean forward and kiss him. Lance’s eyes were  _ really _ blue. He could pretend to stumble forward and kiss him.

“Come on, we have to find Pidge.”

“Where’s the other guy?” Keith asked, completely aware of how pathetic he sounded.

“He left,” Lance said in a monotone voice. “Upstairs. Come on.”

Once they go up there, Lance said, “Oh, I think I see her.  _ Stay here _ , okay?” 

“Yeah,” Keith said. And then he saw Pidge, too, but not in the direction that Lance had gone. He stumbled towards her. “Pidge!”

“Keith!” Pidge yelled. She hugged him suddenly. “I absolutely fucking love you. You know?”

“Yeah,” Keith said. “Where’s Lance?”

“Huh?” Pidge looked around and shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“Lance?” He mumbled to himself. The music was too loud. Pidge was definitely drunk. He watched her play beer pong for what felt like an hour, but when he checked his phone again, it had been exactly one minute.

“Pidge, where’s Lance? We have to find him.” He had  _ just _ been there.

“Don’ kno’. Play pong with me.”

“No, we have to find Lance.” 

They walked around (in retrospect, they’d moved five feet) for a little, looking for lance. They were stared at the beige wall. There was a painting- it was an apple tree in a field of grass.

“The blue sky reminds me of Lance’s eyes,” Keith said.

“What?” Pidge stared at him, scrunching her eyebrows. “How gay is that?”

“Pretty gay,” Keith agreed. “But Lance is very nice to look at.” Then he realized how stupid that was to say out loud. And saying it out loud meant admitting it. “Let’s get more drinks,” he said, pushing her towards the kitchen. Pidge seemed to forget about it and was happy enough to walk towards the alcohol.

She seemed to be holding her liquor well, but she was still very clearly drunk. She stole a red solo cup from behind a cheerleader and drank almost half of it, which Keith warned her not to do, but she ignored him.

Then, a few minutes later, she spoke.

“Keith, I- I think something else was in the beer.”

“What?” That didn’t sound right. It sounded  _ wrong _ . There shouldn’t have been anything in the beer except beer.

“Something… is in this beer. I don’t feel right,” she said again, trying to clearly enunciate. “I feel fuzzy… where’s Lance?”

“Pidge,” Keith said. He tried to help her stand up. “Wait, I don’t- I don’t know.”

“Where did he go?” Pidge said. She was barely awake. Her eyelids looked droopy. “Keith… I think something was in the beer.”

“Who would…” It  _ had _ been that girl’s cup. Someone… Keith felt too plastered to think about this. 

Pidge stumbled. “Fuck, I- Keith, we need to…  _ leave _ .”

Except it sounded like,  _ Keef, we eeb duh leeb _ . Keith opened his phone and tried to text Lance, but almost dropped his phone in another solo cup. He felt stupid for not thinking to text him earlier, especially when he saw ten new messages from Lance. “Come on, outside,” he urged her. Her eyes drifted closed, and for a moment, in his drunken state, Keith was terrified she was going to  _ die _ . The relaxed feeling from smoking was gone, and he was left with heightened anxiety.

He dragged her outside and they collapsed on the lawn. He went to the phone app and called Lance. “Lance,” he blurted.

“Yeah?”

“We gotta go. Where did you go?” He sounded like a toddler. 

Lance answered, “I- sorry, Pidge wasn’t where I thought she was, and then went back, but then you weren’t there! I couldn’t find you. Where  _ are _ you?”

All Keith understood was the last sentence. “Front lawn.”

“I’m coming,” Lance said firmly. “Stay  _ right there _ .”

Keith wasn’t sure he could move even if he wanted to. Pidge was slumped against him. Keith felt around for her neck, and freaked out when he couldn’t find her pulse. His heart rate was soaring.

Lance sat next to him and started moving around Pidge. “Finally. Do you know how fucking big Nyma’s house is? I was looking- what’s wrong with Pidge? Pidge? Pidge!” He did find her pulse, which Keith was thankful for. He wasn’t even sure he could talk. “She’s alive, don’t worry, but her heart rate is… really slow. Keith, can you stand up? Help me carry her to the car.”

Keith nodded vaguely and stood up entirely too fast. He almost collapsed, but Lance held him up.

“Where you been?” Keith asked, but he could feel his eyelids drooping. 

“Looking  _ everywhere _ for you two,” Lance said, somewhat annoyed. He started walking, awkwardly trying to hold Pidge, who was a little more than six inches shorter than him. “Come on, Keith. Did Pidge drink too much?”

“No, there was a cup…” Keith stumbled out to the car with Lance. Lance was carrying Pidge bridal style. He stood Pidge up and supported her, throwing one of her arms over his shoulder, crouching down.

He dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the back door, gently pushing the unconscious Pidge into the backseat. He belted her in and set her as straight as he could. Keith saw him pulling hard on the seat belt, tightening it as much as possible. Keith just got into the front seat and tried to hold his head up.  _ Never again _ .

Just then, he got a text from Shiro. 

“Fug,” he said, tugging his phone out of his pocket.  _ I’m on my way home. Are you back from whatever party? _

“What?” Lance asked. He got in the other side and helped Keith buckle in. “Need a booster seat, Munchkin?” He joked, teasingly patting Keith’s head, which was slumped. 

“Shut it, tall...y.” Keith put away his phone and closed his eyes, trying to pretend the text didn’t exist. Shiro would  _ lose it _ if he found out Pidge was accidentally roofied and Keith was so drunk he couldn’t see the edges of his vision. How did he get like this?  _ Pidge was drugged. _ How could he tell Lance? He felt ashamed. He was the one who pushed her towards the alcohol… 

“Tall-y?”

“Yeah,” Keith muttered. Lance laughed, and glanced in the back seat, checking on Pidge, who was still passed out. “Pidge is… she drank from the cup, Lance.”

“I know,” Lance said. “She’s drunk. I’m taking her to my house and I’ll get her hydrated and make sure she doesn’t choke on her vomit. I think she’ll be okay.”

“No,” he tried to say, but now he felt himself slipping off to sleep. “Not her fault.” He shouldn’t have gone to the party. He stared out the window. He couldn’t believe  _ Lance _ was the sober one, driving them all home. Why did Keith get plastered? He played with the door lock until Lance locked it from the driver’s side.

“Stop playing with that,” he said. “You don’t want to fall out.”

“I have m’ sea bell,” Keith mumbled. It felt like his brain was taking a  _ bath _ in alcohol.

Lance shot Keith a glance. “Man, you are  _ sloshed _ .”

“I kno’,” Keith mumbled again. “Know. No… ledge. But Pidge…” Keith didn’t know what to say-  _ how _ to say. Pidge was drugged? By accident? He couldn’t even form a coherent thought. He drank too much. He needed to stop this before it turned into a six-times-a-week thing again.

Lance snorted but didn’t say anything else for a minute. “Please don’t die in this car.”

“Only dead inside.”

“God, Keith, I forget how  _ emo _ you are. And you’re drunk. You’re probably a thousand times more emo now than normal.”

“Mm. Priddy.” (Pretty.)

“What is?”

“The sky. It was your eyes.”

“What?”

“The sky… i’ was like your eyes.” Keith’s neck rolled and his eyes slid shut. 

Lance snorted. They pulled into Keith’s driveway. “Yeah, I guess Pidge got a little crazy with the drinks.” She was still passed out in the back, her mouth slightly ajar. “Are you going to be okay?” Lance asked. He still hadn’t unlocked the passenger door.

“I think,” Keith managed to say. His head felt so blurry. He hadn’t been this drunk since he was 16. “Mm, think I’m good.”

“I’m glad. Jesus, Keith. You’re definitely DD next time. I never thought I’d be giving you a ride home and telling you that I hope you’re safe, but here we are.”

“Don’ ge’ senni-mennal,” Keith slurred. “Unlock th’ door instead.” The edges of his vision were darkened and he was having even more trouble keeping his eyes open.

Lance sighed. “Yeah, okay.” He let Keith out. Keith almost fell right out of the seat since he’d been leaning against the door, but he was suspended by the seat belt. 

“Jeepers,” Keith said.

Lance stared, mouth agape. “‘Jeepers.’ Like, Scooby Doo?” He asked. He shook his head and pulled Keith’s arm so he was upright again, and then he undid the seatbelt for him. “Go home, Keith. I’ll see you tomorrow. Probably. If Shiro doesn’t ground you. I’ll wait here until you’re in the house.”

“Yah,” Keith said. “Yah. Yeah. Yea. Yah.” He went two steps before turning around and saying, “Can yo’ walk me to th’ door?”

Lance glanced in the back, and then around the car. “To the door,” he said. He got out and Keith kept an iron grip on Lance’s bicep, determined to stay walking upright. “Sturng.”

“What?” Lance asked, starting to walk.

“Y’ur arm,” Keith said. In his head, he was screaming  _ no, don’t say it! _ But his lips kept moving. “Y’ur sturng.”

“Strong?” Lance asked, digging through Keith’s jacket pockets for his keys. “Wow, thanks, drunkard.”

“Churro’s home,” Keith muttered.

Lance’s hand froze, but he’d already turned the key in the lock.

“Who?”

The door opened, and Shiro looked  _ very _ angry. “Keith,” Shiro said through gritted teeth. Keith’s neck rolled to look at the window, where he could see the light and a chair. Shiro saw him walk to the front door, gripping Lance like a lifeline, barely able to take a step.

“Churro,” Keith repeated.

“Well, Keith, it was nice knowing you,” Lance squeaked. Keith let go of Lance’s arm. 

“Don’ leaf,” Keith mumbled, tugging on Lance’s sleeve. “He’s mad.”

“ _ Astute _ observation, Keith,” Shiro hissed.

Lance chuckled nervously. “Keith, I’ve got other people to drive home, so…”

“Who else?” Shiro asked carefully.

“Chunk,” Keith blurted. 

Lance glanced at Keith quickly and said, “Uh, yeah, just Hunk. Sweet guy, but  _ man _ , he likes his weed. Haha.” 

Even in Keith’s state, he cringed. Hunk didn’t like weed at all. Or maybe he did. Keith didn’t actually know.

Shiro’s eyes narrowed. “Keith, get inside. You- uh, what’s your name?” Keith tripped going forward, but he leaned on Shiro, breathing heavily.

“Pretty boy,” Keith barely whispered into Shiro’s ear.

“Lance McClain,” Lance said. “One of Keith’s three friends.”

“Thanks for driving him home,” Shiro said. “Stay safe. Don’t let him do this next weekend. I’ve got enough people delivering my drunk brother to me.”

“You got it, sir,” Lance said awkwardly. He waved at Keith and practically ran to his car.

Keith felt like he was dying. The beer was swirling through his system. His liver was probably cursing him. When he walked through the door, he realized Shiro probably was, too.  _ No drinking. _ Oops.

“Hello, Keith. How are you feeling?”

“Tagaski.” Keith smiled and leaned against the wall, trying to look casual. “You kno’ I love ya.”

“I know you’re shitfaced when you start proclaiming your love for me.”

“How’d you know?” Keith frowned, and his arm slipped off the wall. He swayed as he started to walk up the stairs. Shiro, ever the concerned one, went behind Keith, ready to catch him if he fell. 

“You weren’t home. I watched you stumble to the front door. And just who is Lance?”

“Lancey Lance.”

“Lancey Lance,” Shiro repeated.

“Pretty Boy Lancey Lance,” Keith confirmed, rolling his head in a full circle.

“Pretty Boy?” Shiro glared at Keith as Keith fell into his bed and snuggled under the comforters. “Seriously, Keith? That boy was  _ traumatized _ tonight.”

“‘That boy,’” Keith mocked. “You soun’  old.”

Shiro let out a defeated sigh. “Goodnight, Keith. You can face the music tomorrow.”

“Music,” Keith murmured, diving deeper into the covers. “Goodin, Tagaski.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lance doesn't even know :( 
> 
> this is my big lesson. do not fucking drink from a cup you didn't pour. try not to drink, really. getting shitfaced isn't fun, i promise.


	6. Riptide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riptide by Vance Joy. i love this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uJ_1HMAGb4k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm trying to make all the songs from different artists so i can expand my horizons and also maybe yall will recognize a song you like

**(Trigger Warning: Date rape drugs mentioned)**

Keith woke up with a pounding headache and a  _ lot _ of regret.

He pieced together the night slowly. Pidge drank from a solo cup that some girl had put down- a significantly taller, more…  _ shapely _ girl. A girl at least 30 pounds heavier than Pidge, probably forty. That meant that if they were trying to drug her, the person would’ve used a higher dose… and if a 5’3, skinny girl like Pidge drank the whole cup…

Keith launched himself out of his bed and started digging around his dresser for his phone.

He called Pidge six times before giving up and calling Lance, the unknown number that texted last night, who picked up after the second ring. “H’llo?” 

Keith choked. Is this what Lance’s morning voice sounded like?  _ Get a grip. He’s attractive, you’re not in love. _ “Uh, hey, Lance, how’s Pidge?”

Just to make sure Shiro wouldn’t hear anything he said, he peeked through the blinds (which Shiro had kindly closed for him two hours earlier) and saw the car missing from the driveway.

“Okay? I think? She was way too fucked up to go home, so I called Mrs. Holt and said we were spending the night at my house. We slept in the guest house.”

“Didn’t she ask to talk to Pidge?”

“I said she was showering.”

“That’s actually… a really smart idea,” Keith said slowly. “So, is she alive?”

“Yeah, but… how much did she drink? I think she should be more careful. She was like a rock until about twenty minutes ago. She puked her guts up in the bathroom, started crying, and is now stuck in bed with the worst headache in the world.”

Keith rubbed his forehead and started walking downstairs. “No, she drank something. Uh, you know the tall cheerleader?”

“Eiffel?”

“Her name is Eiffel? You’re kidding, right?”

“No, it’s Paris, but everyone calls her Eiffel because, you know… Paris. Tall. Whatever, it’s not important. Eiffel’s the tall one. What about her?”

“I think…” Keith tucked the phone in between his shoulder and ear and started his coffee. “I think someone tried to drug her. Pidge stole her cup. Almost immediately after, she just… shut down.”

Lance was silent. Keith put him on speaker and set him down before swallowing six Advil. Not good for you, but hey, Keith was making a lot of stupid decisions for his body lately.  _ It has to stop today. No more getting shitfaced. _

“Drugged?”

“Yeah.”

“Keith, can you come over? Pidge is… well, maybe you should just be here. If she was drugged, really. She hasn’t even spoken to me. I don’t know how she’s feeling.”

“Yeah, yeah, just text me the address…”

“Sure. Remember, the guest house, so just come around the back.” He chugged a glass of water to sober up enough to drive.

Twenty minutes later, Keith was triple-checking the address on his phone and the one in front of him. He wasn’t sure about the whole “just going around the back” business, but he took a deep breath and walked away from the main house and towards the guest house instead. 

It was like a barn, except when Keith knocked and was let inside by an anxious-looking Lance, he saw it was a lot nicer than that. There was a couch, a TV, and a loft. The bathroom door was open.

“Holy shit, Lance,” Keith said. “This is almost as nice as my townhouse.”

“What?” Lance looked confused, but then Keith’s words registered. “Oh. Yeah. My mom got some serious business with the family company a few years back. Trust me, it wasn’t always this nice. Come on, she’s in the bed.”

Keith went up to the loft where Pidge lay. The bed was a wreck. Pidge rolled over to look at them.

“Oh, hey Keith,” she said. Her voice was throaty and dry. She sat up and chugged half a water bottle. “Guess what?”

“You got drugged,” Keith breathed. “You were fucking drugged.”

“What?” Pidge frowned. “I don’t remember. I was going to say it turns out I’m not immune to hangovers, but drugged? Is that why I feel fucking  _ awful _ ?”

“I- what? What’s the last thing you remember?”

“You came down and played beer pong with me. You sucked ass, by the way. But I don’t… I don’t remember anything else. God, was I awful?”

“N-no!” Keith remembered talking about Lance. He  _ really _ hoped she didn’t remember that part. “I was scared you were dead. I mean, I was drunk, but I was still really scared you were dead. You passed out and we were on the front lawn. You don’t remember walking out there or anything?”

“No.” Pidge shrank into the covers. “Drugged… it was probably… oh god. At least… Wait, are you sure I was drugged?”

“You stole- you stole Eiffel’s solo cup. I think someone was trying to drug Eiffel.” Keith took a shaky breath and sat next to her on the bed. “Jesus, and you’re half her size.”

“I know,” Pidge muttered. 

“Are you okay?” Lance asked.

“I mean, I was with Keith, and Eiffel wasn’t drugged and… well, she wasn’t hurt. So at least it was me instead of her.”

“That’s… bleak,” Keith said. “Jesus Christ. We have to be more careful next time.  _ If _ we even go somewhere.”

Lance looked pale. “Yeah. Oh, fuck. This wouldn’t have happened if I’d found you guys earlier. Jesus,  _ drugged _ ? Should we have called 911 or something? Oh my God, what if you fucking… what if you  _ died _ , Pidge?”

Lance’s words hang heavy in the air. 

“Definitely not. I’m fine now, and my parents would’ve killed me, not to mention Matt, and Keith would never hear the end of it from Shiro.” Pidge wiped her nose, and Keith saw tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. “I was… oh my god. A-anything could’ve h-happened, and I wouldn’t  _ know _ -”

“Pidge,” Keith said softly. He opened his arms and she leaned in. “It’s okay. You knew we had to leave. You knew something was wrong. You were still smart about it, Pidge.”

“No!” She hunched her shoulders, balled her fists, and dropped her head. “Drinking is  _ stupid _ ! I was stupid to drink that stupid solo cup!”

“Pidge, don’t blame yourself for anything that happened,” Lance said firmly. “That was all on whoever tried to drug Eiffel. God, she probably doesn’t even know what almost happened…”

Keith could see Eiffel turning around, frowning because her drink was gone, then shrugging and getting another one. She had  _ no _ idea. It could’ve been her, crying on her bed, trying to figure out what happened the night before.

“I… the last thing I remember is Keith coming down and asking me where Lance was. Then we… we stared at… at a tree? In a picture?”

“Yeah, there was a painting,” Keith said softly. 

“Anything after that… I don’t know.”

Lance sat on the other side of Pidge. “It’s okay. Nothing bad happened.”

“Eiffel could’ve been…  _ raped _ .” Pidge was the first one to say it- the actual  _ word _ that carried so much weight. Keith could tell it was sour on her lips. “Someone tried to do that. We have no idea who did it. He got away.”

“He got away,” Keith agreed.

“That’s not  _ right _ .”

“No,” Lance sighed. “It’s not.”

They sat there quietly for a moment. Pidge broke the silence and said, “I’m going to sleep a bit more before I go back home. Uh, no more drinking for me. For a  _ while _ , at least. You guys can do your thing next time.”

“No way am I letting you drink unsupervised- or drink at  _ all _ . Pidge, that was  _ scary _ . Your heartbeat was so slow I struggled to find it. I mean, Jesus,  _ I _ was scared you were dead, and I was  _ sober _ .”

Pidge nodded miserably. Lance put a movie on the TV, but Keith wasn’t really paying attention. What if he hadn’t been with Pidge when she stole Eiffel’s cup? Wasn’t it his fault, really, that she stole it in the first place?

_ Nothing even happened,  _ he thought to himself.  _ So why am I still freaking out over it? _

Lance went into the house and brought back coffee. “Do you like cream and sugar and stuff?” He asked Keith.

“Just black, thanks,” he replied. Pidge drank hers with a shitload of cream and sugar. Lance added a little bit of both. 

Lance poured it into bowls and gave them their coffee somewhat sheepishly. “Nico didn’t do the dishes yesterday, so we don’t have any mugs,” he explained. 

Keith took a long sip and remembered how high he was, what stupid shit he said. First, he started thinking about how attractive Lance really was. Then he kept going on that and  _ said it to Pidge. _ And worse, his sober self was agreeing?

Lance  _ was _ attractive. When did he start thinking of Lance as  _ hot _ ? Only when he was high. But then there was the drinking first. And he took a huge sip of that vodka-fireball mix. 

_ That was my downfall. _

Lance and Pidge were sitting on the floor, watching the movie with vague interest. Keith was still sitting on the bed, leaning back on his hands. He studied the curls on top of Lance’s head. Free of tangles, which was frankly impressive. He didn’t see any dandruff or grease. Keith valued nice hair, and even if Lance teased him for the ‘mullet’ he had, it was really just shaggy and in need of a trim.

Not to mention, Lance was  _ smart _ . He acted like a flirt and a dumb jock, but AHS was a good school with an excellent AP program. He was in AP Spanish, so he was probably pretty damn fluent. He understood English class, a concept Keith struggled to grasp. Maybe he wasn’t so good at Chemistry, but it was an AP class and he already had other AP classes. 

And Lance did sports all year. Every year. Keith had been doing photography for three years now- Lance was a varsity jock and had been featured four times as a star athlete. He was probably going to be captain of the soccer team this season. 

All in all, Lance was a well-rounded student and a  _ very _ attractive guy.

The movie ended. Lance stood up and stretched. His back cracked. Keith had  _ been _ thinking about how nice Lance was, so when he turned around and saw Keith’s eyes dart away, he frowned. “You okay, Keith?”

“Yup,” Keith said. “All good here. Um, should I get out of your hair soon?”

“Nah, as long as Pidge is here, someone’s gonna be in my hair,” Lance said. “’Sides, you can make dealing with her easier if you stick around.”

Something about Lance’s easy tone made Keith more relaxed. “Well,” he said somewhat helplessly, “if you insist.”

Pidge called her mother, who said she could stay at Lance’s but had to be home at dinner. Pidge got up, looked in the mirror, and realized she was in no shape to go home any time soon. 

While she showered and changed into some of Lance’s clothes, Keith and Lance played video games. Keith wasn’t that good, but Lance was nice about beating his ass every round. 

“Someday you’ll be on the same level as me and Pidge,” Lance said smugly. “I think this is one of the few things I’m better than you at!”

“You’re better than me at plenty of things,” Keith retorted. “Like English. And Spanish.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance rolled his eyes. “Sure. Hey, Pidge, are you all right?”

“Yeah!” She came out of the bathroom a moment later in a blue T-shirt and black sweatpants. “Thanks for letting me borrow your clothes. I’m gonna take mine to your washing machine, is that cool?”

“Yup, just make sure it doesn’t smell too much like puke. If it does, bury it under Marco’s clothes. They smell like shit all the time cause he’s always sweating,” Lance said. 

“Got it,” Pidge said, and she walked out the barn door.

“Who’s Marco?” Keith asked.

“My brother. He’s one year older than me. He didn’t go to college since he’s trying to make it big with his band. They’re actually doing pretty well,” Lance said. “And Nico’s my little cousin. He’s with us cause… well, cause his parents aren’t the best.”

“Oh,” Keith said. “At least he’s got you.”

“Yeah, I’m a kickass older cousin and an amazing babysitter,” Lance agreed easily. “There’s also Veronica and Luis, who are also my older siblings.”

They played one more round and then Pidge came back. Her hair was still damp and hung just above her shoulders. It occurred to Keith that her hair was actually shorter than his.

Maybe he  _ did _ have a  _ bit _ of a mullet.

_ It’s just shaggy, _ he thought to himself. He smoothed his hair and Lance went down the ladder from the loft to the ground to meet Pidge. Keith admired how quickly he did it, and then slowly got down.

Squeezing water out of a strand of hair, Pidge said, “In a given school year, 58% of 7th to 12th graders experience sexual assault of some kind. That could’ve been me if I was alone. It  _ would’ve _ been Eiffel if I hadn’t taken her cup. And what… what could I even do to stop it?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” Lance answered unhappily. “There’s not much we  _ can _ do except report it when we see it.”

“I’m gonna do that,” Pidge said. “I’m gonna get my driver’s license. Every party we go to, I’m driving people home. Next year. People who are drunk and don’t know where their friends are.”

She sounded so determined, so  _ sure _ , Keith felt goosebumps on his arms. “We’ll help you,” he said. “I mean, that was  _ scary _ last night. I still haven’t talked to Shiro about yesterday when I was wasted- he’s probably pissed. And you… passed out.”

“Rag doll,” Lance agreed. “You called him Churro, by the way.”

Keith cringed. “Oh, God.” 

Pidge climbed the ladder and booted up the game, still lost in thought. Keith turned to Lance. “Did I do anything embarrassing?”

Lance smirked. “Oh, yeah. First, you said my eyes were the fucking sky. Because they’re blue and ‘priddy’. Then you called my arm- what was it?-  _ sturng. _ You think I’m strong.”

Keith stared at him. “I did  _ not _ say that.”

“Oh, yes you did.”

“No way,” Keith said, backing into the ladder. “Ugh, you’re right. That  _ is _ embarrassing.”

Just then, his phone beeped. A message from Shiro, the only person who ever texted him.  _ You better be home before I am with dinner and a very good explanation _ .

“Oh, God,” he breathed. “Shiro’s gonna be so pissed.” And he couldn’t really say he didn’t deserve it. 

“Churro?”

“Don’t  _ tease _ me!”

“I tease all my friends,” Lance objected. “It’s a thing. You can’t avoid it.”

“I thought we were rivals?”

“Can’t we be both?”

Keith stared at him.

“I mean, we rock, paper, scissors’d the other day. We had that stupid trash can basketball bet. We played beer pong, too. Can’t forget the bone cracking. We’re  _ great _ rivals,” Lance said. 

“I don’t even really know where you got this rivals thing from,” Keith admitted. “I mean, you’ve just kinda hated me forever.”

“Um, the rivals thing started in like, ninth grade. Don’t you remember?” Hadn’t Pidge said the same thing?

Keith frowned. Ninth grade was very… blocked out. “Um, to be fair, I don’t remember much of freshmen year.”

“I definitely hated you for a while,” Lance said, somewhat sheepish.

“But why? I never did anything to you,” Keith said. He felt small and pathetic whining about why Lance hated him years ago, but he really wanted to know.

Lance exhaled. “You’re gonna think it’s the stupidest thing in the world.”

“Maybe,” Keith admitted.

Lance gave him a look out of the corner of his eye. “So, after soccer tryouts- I mean, I went to the summer league and I’ve played soccer since I was a kid. I only started playing seriously in eighth grade, but I was  _ good. _ And I went to summer league, and then there were the actual tryouts in August. And I really wanted to make varsity- only one or two freshmen make it every year, and I  _ really _ wanted it to be me. This was back when there were a ton of juniors and seniors playing soccer, too, so I was kind of anxious. And then at tryouts…” Lance trailed off.

“What happened?” Keith asked, knitting his eyebrows. He barely remembered tryouts. It  _ had _ been three and a half years ago.

Lance laughed shortly. “I was so petty, Keith. You came out of nowhere- signed up like it was just a second thought. The first day of tryouts, you were relatively friendly. You didn’t act like you were trying to make any friends, but you were seriously good at soccer. Better than I was, and I’d never seen you before in my life. Then you made varsity, and I didn’t.”

Keith had a bad feeling he knew where this was going.

Lance took his silence as a cue to continue. “Well, you changed. After you were on varsity, you played  _ one _ game. And then you quit. Or you weren’t allowed to play anymore, whatever, I forgot. JV had their game right after varsity, so I watched your first game happen. Some kid from the other team said something and you just…  _ lost _ it on them. You started yelling and then you both rolling around in the dirt- the kid you fought was a senior, Keith.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Keith said bitterly. He hated the guy- even though all he was now was a face from years ago that led to photography.

“So, the next week, Iverson came to me after a week of being ‘sick’ and he says, with that stupid eyepatch on his face, that I’m on varsity now. Of course I’m excited, and I asked why, and he says they’re a player short, and I was next on the list.”

“So you were on the team because I got kicked?” Keith asked. 

“Pretty much,” Lance said, looking to the side out of the window. “And every time I messed up, Coach reminded me. It made me pretty bitter, even though you didn’t deserve any of the blame. Then I… oh, Jesus Christ, you seriously don’t remember? This is embarrassing to say out loud.”

“Did something else happen?” Keith wracked his brain trying to match Lance to something from ninth grade.

“Yes! This was in tenth grade. It was after school. I walked out of Spanish on like, the third day of school and bumped into in the hall and you… you _ reeked.  _ You smelled like pot. I asked you what your problem was- I was still resentful about the soccer thing and the fact that you were in four of my classes and passed even though you did  _ nothing _ . You glared at me and told me to fuck off, and you turned around and I just felt like you didn’t think I was worth your time.”

“Please tell me I didn’t actually do that.”

“Oh, yes, you did,” Lance said. “And then I shoved you. You tripped and sprawled on the ground, but you sure launched yourself back up and punched me. My Spanish teacher had to separate us.”

“Oh, God,” Keith groaned. “I got in a lot of fights during ninth and tenth grade, Lance, and I was stoned throughout the day almost every day. No fucking wonder I don’t remember you.”

“It gets worse,” Lance sighs, shaking his head. “Then you didn’t even try out for soccer sophomore year, and I felt like I only made the team because you didn’t try out.”

“No way,” Keith said adamantly. Lance glanced at him, a questioning look on his face. “Pidge dragged me out to one of those soccer games sophomore year. I saw you play. You were way better than I would’ve been.” Keith had remembered another kid on the field that looked like Lance weaving through people and playing midfield better than he could. He was suddenly  _ certain _ that had been Lance.

“You still didn’t try out.”

“My grades were too low,” Keith explained. “And I’d gotten into too many fights in ninth grade. I couldn’t do sports anymore. Mr. Smythe got me into photography. Said sports were too physical, and not a good way to cope.”

“Cope with bad grades?”

“No.” Keith sighed and hung his head. “Cope with… just, other things.”

Lance frowned, with the same face he’d made the day Pidge called Keith reckless after being sorted into Gryffindor. “Er, okay,” Lance said awkwardly.

“Sorry,” Keith said, looking down and kicking his foot. “It’s just- it’s hard to talk about. Do you- do you think we should play with Pidge?”

Lance shrugged, seemingly forgetting their conversation. “Sure, why not?”

After an hour and a half of some game that Lance and Pidge loved more than anything, Keith went home. He did a few home exercises and ate a bowl of oatmeal while waiting for Shiro to come home. 

He wondered what Shiro would do. 

He didn’t really remember what happened, if anything, after he went inside the house. There were black spots in his memory from last night, and the more he thought about it, there were gaps of time throughout his entire  _ life _ , even before the accident.

When Shiro  _ did _ come home, he opened the door slowly, closed the door slowly, and set his keys down slowly. Keith was in the kitchen making eggs, the only other thing he knew how to make.

“Eggs?” Shiro asked, one eyebrow raised.

“And toast,” Keith said, pointing a buttery knife and a charred piece of bread. “Don’t forget the toast.”

Shiro set his bag down slowly and slid onto the kitchen stool. “Churro,” he said.

Keith threw his head back and groaned. “Seriously? Is that all anyone cares about?”

“Who else have you talked to?”

“Lance and Pidge,” Keith said. 

“Why Pidge?”

Keith scrambled for a reasonable answer. “Uh, she’s my best friend? Duh.” He scooped eggs off the pan and put them on the toast before passing the plate to Shiro. “Here.”

Shiro reached over the counter to get a fork and took one bite of the eggs. “Okay, you got the dinner point, but only because I’m too exhausted to care.”

“How was work?”

“Fine. How was the hangover?”

Keith pursed his lips. “It was okay.”

“Did you go anywhere today?”

“Lance’s.”

“Ah,” Shiro said, nodding understandingly. “Pretty Boy Lancey Lance?”

“Did he really tell you that was his name?” Keith asked, wrinkling his nose and sitting down on a stool across from Shiro. 

Shiro’s lips quirked and his eyes gleamed. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, face on his hands. “Oh, no. He said his name was Lance McClain. You stumbled into my loving, understanding arms, drunk off your ass, and said that the boy behind you was Pretty Boy Lancey Lance.”

Keith flushed a light pink. “Um,” he chuckled nervously. “I definitely did not say that.”

“Ask Lance if he called himself that. He’ll say no,” Shiro said, shrugging amiably. “You’re lucky he didn’t hear you. You can’t just go around calling your little crush pretty, Keith.”

“He’s not- he’s not my crush!” Keith spluttered, turning redder. “What am I,  _ twelve _ ? This isn’t seventh grade. I don’t have a  _ crush _ on him.”

“Was it him? That you were thinking about for a date?”

“What?”

“When you made fun of me for going on a date with Physics Boy on a Thursday, and I asked you if you liked Hunk. Were you thinking about Lance?”

Keith stared at him, lips pressed into a thin line. Sullenly, he said, “Eat your fucking eggs.”

Shiro laughed. “It  _ was _ !”

“It was not! I wasn’t thinking about him romantically in any way! And I don’t!” Keith glared at Shiro and stuffed a forkful of eggs in his mouth. “Shut it, Takashi!”

“What, I can’t tease my shit-for-brains brother?” Shiro put down his fork. “Now that I’m done making fun of you for your crush- don’t give me that look, you know it’s true- let’s discuss last night in a bit more detail. No more parties, Keith. For at least three weeks. If you’re going to smoke pot, it’s going to be here, in the backyard, while I’m home, and you aren’t allowed more than half a gram at a time.  _ Zero  _ alcohol.”

“All by myself?”

“ _ If _ Pidge’s parents are okay with it, she can come over, but she’s not allowed to smoke with you. But I’m not so sure you want Mr. or Mrs. Holt knowing you’re smoking pot again. They wouldn’t judge you, of course, but it’s not like you believe that.”

“Not a lot of weed,” Keith said defensively. “What about Lance? Or Hunk,” he added meaningfully when he saw Shiro smirk.

“Sure, sure. Either of them can come. But no one else is smoking pot unless their parent is okay with it.”

“Uh, okay,” Keith said. He was sure Hunk wouldn’t smoke with him, and he wasn’t sure if Lance’s mom was okay with him doing whatever he did. “We’ll see about all that.”

“I know it’s weird for me to ground you, but I try to be a brother and a guardian at the same time.”

“Pulling an iCarly on my ass,” Keith said, grinning.

“I hate you for knowing all about iCarly, but… Apt description,” Shiro agreed. He bit into the toast. “Christ, Keith, did you really have to burn it?”

“It was an accident!”

“You’re going to starve to death at college if you can’t cook,” Shiro said.

“You know I want to get into GU.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m gonna drop off home-cooked meals all the damn time. Learn to toast your bread without burning it.”

Keith waved him away. “I’ll just microwave a shitload of frozen waffles.”

Shiro dropped his fork. “Uh, I’m sorry, what?”

Keith laughed at Shiro’s expression, and a moment later, Shiro laughed, too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BROGAAAAAAANES, babey!


	7. Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Human by Rag'n'Bone Man: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L3wKzyIN1yk

It was Monday, and Keith was  _ thriving. _

First period went by beautifully- he still had Calculus first period, but he had Mr. Hawkins let him sit in the back again and Keith actually understood what they’d learned in class that day. In second and third period, he’d gotten nice enough teachers. 

Fourth period was Chemistry, with Mrs. Stoll again. He walked in and his heart dropped.

He wasn’t even acquaintances with anyone in the room, and Lance was nowhere to be seen. 

He sat at a table off to the side but near the middle of the room, so he could still see the board easily enough. Mrs. Stoll started reviewing what they’d gone over last week so that everyone who switched classes or teachers were caught up. Keith didn’t really pay attention; he didn’t have to. He looked out the window and wondered where Lance was. Did he get a last-minute schedule switch? Wouldn’t he have told Keith on Saturday?

Twenty minutes into the class period, Lance walked through the door with a late note and a sheepish expression. “Sorry, Mrs. Stoll,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and balancing on the balls of his feet.

“It’s fine, Lance. Find a seat and pay attention, got it?” She smiled and Lance nodded.

Lance turned around and saw Keith, who was looking over intently. He flinched when Lance waved and grinned, walking over and plopping down in the seat next to him.

“Hey, man,” Lance said, pulling a notebook out of his binder. “What’s she been talking about?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t been listening. Just review stuff, I think. Where have you been all period?”

“Doctor’s appointment. It ran a little late, I was supposed to be here just before third period ended.”

“Oh,” was all Keith said. “Well, I’ve been staring out the window.”

“So emo,” Lance said teasingly. Keith was blown away in that particular moment- he took a snapshot in his mind. The sunlight from the window caught Lance’s eyes, and they looked an even brighter, yet deeper blue than usual. His skin was clear and smooth, his smile was easygoing, and his hand was holding his pencil but he wasn’t tapping it. Were there light freckles on his nose? He seemed so relaxed, so at ease, Keith was jealous, and once again, he knew how  _ fucked _ he was, especially now that he was sitting next to Lance in (hopefully) two classes. 

He’d gotten over crushes before. Rolo, for one, and thankfully, Rolo hadn’t been rude to Keith after. Then there was that boy in seventh grade whose name Keith didn’t even remember, but Keith had been so deep in the closet (thanks to sixth grade) at that point he ignored the kid. 

But Lance?

Keith was pretty sure this boy would be the death of him.

Lance quirked his eyebrow, and Keith realized he was staring. “You have something on your face,” Keith blurted, despite the fact that Lance’s face was impeccable.

“Where?” Lance frowned.

“Uh, right there,” Keith said, tapping his own cheek with his finger.

Lance wiped his cheek, looked at his hand, and then back at Keith questioningly.

“You got it,” Keith lied, and then he looked back to the front, pretending to pay attention, trying to fight the blush because  _ seriously? _

____________________________________________

  
During lunch, Lance was going over his chemistry notes and Keith was helping him when he had a question.

“How come you’re so good at chemistry?” Lance complained, tapping his pencil.

More often than not, Keith was finding his pencil-tapping more endearing than annoying. “I’ve always been better at science and math. English and art are a bit more… fluid. Harder for me to grasp, I guess.” Keith shrugged.

Lance groaned. “I’m not good at art, either. English and Spanish were my only A’s last quarter.”

“Not true, Lance,” Hunk said, always quick to call him on his bullshit. “You got an A in math and gym.”

“Who the fuck doesn’t get an A in gym?” Lance snapped. “And I only got the A in math because Hawkins rounded up my grade.”

“You have Hawkins again?” Keith asked.

“Yeah, he teaches Stat and Calc,” Lance replied.

“And every other grade was a B, right, Lance?” Pidge asked.

“Yeah, but those aren’t A’s,” Lance said. “And I put so much effort into all of my schoolwork. You and Hunk barely try and your GPAs are always more than 3.8!”

“Hey, we try,” Hunk protested.

“I try, too,” Keith said. “I don’t have amazing grades.”

“But you’re still good at school and you’re still gonna get accepted wherever you want to go,” Lance reminded him. “Listen, guys, forget it. I’m just mad at Chemistry.”

“You’ll get better,” Keith reassured him. 

“Especially if I’ve got the world’s best chemist helping me the whole semester,” Lance said, pointing at Keith and grinning.

Keith blinked. “Me?”

Lance dropped his arms and rolled his eyes. “No, the other kid who helps me with chemistry. Well, maybe Allura. But c’mon, Mullet, I thought you were smart.”

“Why do you always pick on my mullet?” Keith asked, frowning and playing with the end of his hair self-consciously. Should he cut it? “And how do you know Allura?”

“Cousins,” Lance said simply.

“Listen, Keith, it’s not even a fucking mullet. It’s just shaggy,” Pidge said.

“Yeah dude, it’s not that bad,” Hunk said, turning to look at the two of them. “Lance just teases his friends a lot.”

“Hunk, stop outing all my secrets,” Lance laughed.

His laughter was music to Keith’s ears.

___________________________________

  
Lance was already sitting down in English when Keith got there- and he was sitting right up in the front row.

Keith slid into the desk next to him. “Why- uh, why are you so close to the front?” Keith asked, fidgeting with his thumb and index finger. 

Lance frowned. “I’m just sitting. The front is where the magic happens. Maybe you aren’t good at English because you hide in the back,” he said teasingly. 

Keith glared. “I just suck at English.”

“That’ll change,” Lance said matter-of-factly. “You’re getting an A this semester, no effort.”

“There’s probably gonna be a lot of effort, actually,” Keith muttered.

The late bell rang and Mr. Steele clapped his hands. “Welcome back to the new semester, everyone!”

Lance sat up straight and his eyes stayed glued to the front of the room the entire period. Keith took the opportunity to sneak glances at him. He had a stupid looking smile on his face, but it was barely there. Mr. Steele passed out another packet with  _ Odyssey _ bullshit to analyze.

Keith pulled his glasses out of their case and started reading the poem, and Lance made a choked sound.

Keith cracked his index knuckle and looked at him. “What?” He asked.

Lance looked dumbstruck. “You wear glasses?”

“I’m farsighted.”

“How did I not know this?”

“I usually only wear glasses when I’m reading something for a while, and I never wore them during lunch?”

“Well- I mean- jeez, I’ve never imagined you in glasses,” Lance said, frowning slightly. 

Keith fidgeted with the edge of the frame awkwardly. “There isn’t like, a smudge or anything, is there?”

“No, no, no, no,” Lance said quickly. “It’s just- I didn’t expect it. They look good! Fine, I mean. You look… it’s fine,” he mumbled. 

“O...kay,” Keith said, turning back slowly to face his paper. He tried to read to poem and ‘analyze it for meaning’ but truth be told, he never quite grasped the concept of an extended simile or extended metaphor, given the fact that he’d barely passed ninth grade English. And Lance telling Keith his glasses looked good- that really threw him in a loop.

“Do you uh, do you understand this?” Keith whispered.

“What? Yeah, it’s an epic simile.”

“Not a metaphor?”

“I’m certain.”

“Completely?” Keith reexamined the paper. “It’s from  _ The Odyssey _ .”

“So?” Lance gave him a look of confusion. “Homer used plenty of epic similes.”

“Homer?”

“The blind poet?”

“He was blind?” Keith frowned. “How did he… you know… write?”

Lance blinked. “Are you joking? I mean… I don’t know. But it’s pretty common knowledge that he’s blind.”

“Boys,” Mr. Steele said sternly. “There will be time to discuss afterward, but for now, you are examining the section  _ independently _ .”

Slightly embarrassed, Keith nodded. He picked his pencil up and started underlining random words. Ten minutes later, he was still writing stupid notes in the margins, pretending to understand what the subject was when Mr. Steele clapped his hands and asked what the subject was.

“Lance?”

Lance started explaining something about dactylic hexameter and how the “beat” of the poem matched up with keywords. Keith zoned out- he wasn’t going to understand anything Lance was explaining, so why bother?

Mr. Steele nodded. “All of that is correct. Now, I’ve got a project that you will work in either groups of two or three for, yes, Kelly, even though we just did one. I’m not assigning it today, but I am going to explain what it is.”

“A project?” Keith hissed, glancing at Lance.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Relax. We’ll get an A.”

He turned to face the board again. Keith was frozen-  _ we _ ? And Lance had said it so casually, like there was never any doubt that he and Keith would be partners. Keith stole a quick glance around the room- who else would Lance pair with? Would they be a group of three? Keith was sure that if this had been last semester, he would have asked Mr. Steele if he could work alone.

But he was now working with  _ Lance _ .

Keith blinked twice and looked at the board, trying to focus on what they were being assigned. Something to do with  _ The Odyssey, _ he was sure. They had to find three passages that correlated…

At which point Keith turned his attention to the window. The sun was unnecessarily bright for a January. He zoned out, but he hadn’t realized quite how long until Lance was tapping his shoulder.

“Hey, dude,” Lance said, snapping the fingers on his free hand. “Time to be alive again. Did you pay attention to any of the project thingy?”

“No,” Keith admitted. “Sorry,” he added, guilty.

“It’s fine, but I’m shit at explaining things,” Lance said, sighing. “Uh, basically we’re finding three epic similes comparing the past of something to the present of something. We have to present our best one with a long-ass analytical essay about how it relates to the overarching theme.”

For a moment, Keith was silent. Then he said, “Fuck. Lance, you definitely don’t want me dragging you down for this.”

Lance shook his head. “No, don’t stress. It’ll be fine. C’mon, Einstein, let’s find some similes.”

“How do I know if it’s a simile?”

“Words like ‘so’ and ‘that’... Even I have trouble with epic similes,” Lance admitted. “We could just Google a bunch, though.”

“Isn’t that cheating?”

“Don’t go growing a moral compass for the first grade of the semester,” Lance warned. “I will not appreciate it, and neither will my shitty GPA.”

Keith put his hands up in mock surrender and put down his pencil to get his copy of  _ The Odyssey _ . He picked his pencil back up, jotted down  _ Simile Page Numbers _ and started flipping through the pages.

“What are you doing?” Lance asked. He had the same incredulous look as when he saw Keith’s glasses.

Keith pushed his glasses up his nose. “Uh, looking for passages to write down?” He said, underlining the words on his paper to emphasize. 

“Yeah, but- but you were writing with your right hand like, two seconds ago.”

Keith looked at the hand with his pencil (his left hand) and looked back at Lance. “Yes. I write with both.”

“You’re  _ ambidextrous _ ?”

“Uh… yeah?,” Keith said uncertainly. 

“That’s so fucking cool. I’m learning so many things about you today. You’re like a whole new person,” Lance babbled, smacking his hand to his forehead.

“I’m just writing, Lance.”

“With both hands! Can you draw with both?”

Keith gave a weak smile. “I’m not… an artist. I’m better with photography.”

“But can you draw with either hand?”

“I- yes,” Keith said hesitantly. “I think. Probably. I mean, it would be bad, but it wouldn’t be any worse than normal…”

Lance sat back in his seat, still smiling to himself. “That’s so cool,” he said. “That’s just so frickin’ cool.”

_________________________________

  
After school and after a gym trip, Keith was at home, looking through  _ The Odyssey _ for metaphors or similes or whatever and trying to find something for the project with Lance. He wanted to make a good impression and come off as someone who understood the material, but he was struggling to understand any of the sentences.

The words were all so small and after staring so long, some had tiny red outlines. He gave up and searched on Google, but only found something comparing the past Odysseus to Telemachus, which Keith was sure Lance already had found. After a quick text to Lance, he learned that Lance hadn’t even started.

_ Hey, I can’t believe I found something for this project. _

_ yeah mullet im just as surprised as you :) _

Keith cringed at the grammar, but he ignored it and worked on his math homework. Shiro came home at the normal time, which Keith was happy about, since that meant he wasn’t taking extra shifts, and they were okay. 

_________________________________

  
The week came and went much more quickly than Keith was used to. By Friday, he was surprised his neck hadn’t broken from the whiplash. He and Lance were almost done with their English project, which was due next Thursday. 

“So, you understand what Mrs. Stoll just explained, right?” Lance asked, tapping his notebook paper with his pencil.

“Mostly,” Keith said. “It’s simple if you think about it differently than how she explained. Here…”

Keith was somewhat unhappy with how easily he’d started to like Lance. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Lance’s eyes were always sparkling, like he was just always so fucking excited to move through with life (who even enjoys life? Keith wondered), or how Lance was always smiling and laughing, or how he always had a crummy joke up his sleeve or a shitty pun he was ready to crack. He liked his hair, and how smooth and clear his skin was, and-

_ It’s been barely three weeks since you’ve started talking to him, and you have a crush on him _ , Keith thought to himself angrily, but then Lance was grinning because he understood what Keith explained and the annoyance was gone.

It was only the end of the period that Lance had another crestfallen look on his face. 

“You will have a 15-point quiz on this material during the second half of the period on Monday. If you still don’t understand, you’re welcome to stay for a while during lunch today or Monday before school, but I am not available after school today,” Mrs. Stoll said. “Enjoy your weekend, everyone!”

Lance looked at Keith, forlorn. “I’m gonna fail.”

“A, it’s fifteen points, and B, you’re not going to fail. Do you want to stay after and talk to her for a little?”

“Um, no, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Keith glanced at his watch. “I have to go to Alfie for yearbook stuff for like fifteen minutes, anyway.”

“I guess I’ll stay a little,” Lance said, still a bit uncertain. Keith frowned. Why was Lance so against admitting he needed a little extra help? 

The bell rang and Keith swung by Mrs. Alfie’s office. He hadn’t been planning on it, but he  _ did  _ have to make sure there weren’t any deadlines coming up for the yearbook or for the school newspaper. 

“Hey, Mrs. Alfie,” Keith said, opening her classroom door. “Anything new happening today?”

“Well, there’s a photography project I’m assigning for over the weekend, and that’s due Monday. As for yearbook… Well, spring sports start in like, a month or something, so just be ready, I suppose.”

“Photography project?”

“Yes, and there’s going to be a second one next week due Friday. Fun stuff,” she said, turning back to her computer. “What brings you to my office today?”

“Not much. Just wanted to make sure I’m not missing anything.”

“You have a 100% in this class.”

Keith scoffed. “Who doesn’t?”

“This is a  _ very _ difficult photography class, Keith. There is one person with only a 98.7%.”

“So they didn’t do a warm-up.”

Mrs. Alfie smiled. “Nope.”

“So what’s the project of?”

“Easy thing to start the semester with. Nature. But solo things. Like one tree in a meadow or something. Play with the colors a bit for bonus points.”

Keith stood up. “Sounds fun. As interesting as this has been, I have to go get a head start on a photography project and touch up an English project. Bye, Mrs. Alfie!”

“Bye, Keith!”

Lance didn’t go to Mr. Hutch’s room until five minutes after Keith went in. Keith, Pidge, and Hunk had been playing Uno.

“Pidge, you  _ bitch _ , I can’t believe you gave me a plus 4!” Keith swore.

“Uno, motherfucker. The color’s green,” she said, grinning. She held her one card and Keith put down a wild card, changing the color to red. 

Lance walked in and plopped in a seat. His face was white. “I’m really not gonna do well on that quiz.”

“Lance, it’s 15 points, and it’s the beginning of the quarter. Besides, there’s always a retake,” Keith reassured him. 

“I don’t  _ want _ to have to do the retake,” Lance said. “And yeah, the beginning of the quarter means that things that should be small actually affect your grade a lot! It’s not good!”

“Relax,” Keith said. “I’ll help you study. If you want,” he added quickly, and somewhat… awkwardly.

Lance perked up. “Really?”

“Of course,” Keith replied, and he could feel his cheeks heat up.

_ “Ahem.” _ Pidge cleared her throat loudly. “Keith, it’s your turn.”

“Oh.” He put down a red three. “Uh, sorry.”

“Nah, no, it’s cool,” Hunk said, putting down a yellow three. “I’d like to procrastinate Pidge’s victory as long as possible.”

Pidge put down her last card (a green three). “Sucks,” she said, sticking out her tongue. “I’m just too good at Uno.”

Lance scooted his swivel chair closer to the table. “Hey, deal me in this time. I’m great at Uno.” 

Keith moved a bit so that Lance was more in the circle, and flinched when their shoulders touched ( _ Are you fucking kidding me? _ He asked himself). “Not as good as Pidge, surely?”

“I played a lot of Uno growing up. Don’t underestimate me,” Lance warned.

“It’s a very luck-based game,” Keith argued.

“No, it’s strategy, too. Don’t forget that time I beat you when I had all yellow and green cards and you started with two plus 4’s and a wild card,” Pidge said, pointing her finger at him.

“That was two  _ years _ ago!” Keith protested. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Pidge said. “It happened, and I will  _ never _ let you live it down.”

Hunk shuffled the cards smoothly and dealt them out again. Lance picked up his cards and started organizing them. “When can you help me?”

“Any time works for me. If it’s somewhere scenic, that’d be great, since I have an art project in Photography,” Keith answered, picking up his cards and  _ not _ organizing them.

“Are we going to a party this weekend?” Pidge asked. She fidgeted with her cards, shuffling them around. 

“Definitely not,” Hunk said. “No way. Not after what happened. I wasn’t even there and I was scared when you told me!”

“I wasn’t asking because I wanted to go. Well, kind of. I was asking to see if Lance and Keith wanted someone with them that was sober. You know, to stop… what happened.” She adjusted her glasses and scratched her arm nervously.

Keith looked at Lance. “Well, if you guys don’t want to do anything dangerous, Shiro said we can smoke pot at our house as long as it’s not smelly.”

“Smelly,” Lance echoed. “Your house sounds a hell of a lot safer than wherever I find a party. Shiro’s okay with it?”

“As long as your mom knows you’re smoking pot,” Keith added sheepishly. “He’s still pretty pissed I got plastered. I gave him shit for it, but I don’t blame him.”

“My mom’s been pretty chill since I turned 17. Hunk and Pidge don’t smoke. This is turning out to be a good plan,” Lance said. “I’ll bring my bong if you want.”

“Awe, the bong bros,” Pidge said teasingly, but her tone was  _ too _ light, and Keith was suddenly very unsure of the entire conversation.

“You could come, Pidge,” Keith said.

Pidge smiled testily. “No, I don’t think I will. No weed. No drinking. I am a smart person,  _ remember _ ?”

Keith’s brain scrambled to think of what she could possibly want, what she could possibly be trying to tell him subtly, but he was coming up blank. “Oh. Um. Okay. Hunk?”

“No, thanks, guys,” Hunk said, leaning back in his seat. “I’m not- I don’t do that. Stuff. I tried it once, and I just. No. Thanks.”

“Hunk, it’s fine,” Lance said. “We’re not gonna pressure you. Weed’s expensive, and I’ve never been offered or offered it to strangers or first-timers.”

“Funny how middle school health prepared me for a dream that never came true,” Keith said thoughtfully. 

“Ah, don’t worry,” Lance said, smirking and leaning back in his chair. “I’ll offer it to you.  _ For money _ .”

“I still have like, half a gram from the party.”

“Oh, okay!” Lance grinned. “Then I’ll just bring some of my own. And the bong. You’re sure Churro’s cool with it?”

“ _ Shiro _ ,” Keith said meaningfully, “is fine, as long as it doesn’t smell too bad.”

“Got it,” Lance said, nodding. “Okay, ready to play some Uno?”

_______________________________________________

  
Keith struggled the whole way through English, but Lance was there to make things significantly better. They worked on their project. Mr. Steele said they would present it Tuesday. 

After the bell rang, Lance turned to Keith, who was putting away his glasses. “So, ready to help me with Chem?”

“Oh, yeah!” Keith couldn’t believe he’d almost forgotten. “Yeah, just let me get my camera from my locker. Then we can go… well, wherever you want to go to study that’s scenic.”

“West Park is nice,” Lance said. “Starbucks is by there and, you know, it’s a park.”

“Sounds like a plan. Did you drive to school today?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Shit. I drove my motorcycle. Do you wanna meet there or just-”

“Dude, I totally forgot you own a motorcycle!” Lance practically jumped in the air. “Can we ride that instead?”

Keith fought the smile creeping onto his face. “Uh, yeah, if you want,” he said casually.

Unfortunately, Keith didn’t always think his plans all the way through. Lance ended up using Pidge’s helmet (Pidge went with Hunk) and Keith had to admit, Lance somehow made the ugly helmet… kind of nice looking, even if bright green wasn’t his color. Keith grabbed his cropped red jacket from the locker, too, since it was chilly. 

“You have a red helmet?” Lance asked. “We make Christmas colors!”

“I mean, I guess,” Keith said, shrugging. “It’s not all red, though. There are some black highlights.”

“Sure, sure, but we still make Christmas,” Lance said. Keith mounted the motorcycle and this was the moment he realized he didn’t think things through.

“You just, uh, hop on the back, then,” Keith said awkwardly. He patted the back of the motorcycle and Lance swung his long-ass legs over the back. Keith flinched when Lance put his hands on his hips. 

“Is this how I’m supposed to do it?” Lance asked, leaning over to talk to Keith.

“You’re probably going to want to hold on tighter,” Keith answered, trying to ignore Lance’s hand placement. He revved the engine, which he immediately regretted because Lance shrieked and dug his fingers into Keith’s hips.

“Are you okay?” Keith asked over the engine. 

Lance wrapped both his arms all the way around Keith’s waist. “I didn’t expect you to start it so soon! Uh, yeah, I’m good! Ready to go!” His voice was at a slightly higher pitch than normal. 

Keith jetted off into the road, hyper-aware of the fact that he shouldn’t be driving. When did he start liking Lance this much? Monday, it’d been bearable. But now Lance-  _ Lance fucking McClain _ \- had his chest pressed up against Keith’s back and Keith wasn’t functioning.

He snapped back to reality and braked at a red light. Lance was breathing hard, tickling Keith’s ear. “This is so much fun!” Lance said.

Keith grinned. “I know!”

The light turned green, and Keith turned to pull into West Park’s parking lot. He parked and let Lance hop off the motorcycle first. 

“You like the ride?” Keith asked. His face felt slightly flushed, but he hoped Lance wouldn’t notice. He felt stupidly childish- he wanted to make sure Lance had fun.

Lance laughed and bent over, hands on his knees. He straightened up, put his hands on his head, looked at the sky, laughed again, and gave Keith the most  _ exhilarated _ look. “That was  _ awesome _ !”

Keith laughed, too, unexpectedly enough. He took his camera out of his motorcycle’s pouch and they made their way to the actual park. Keith uncovered the lens and started walking, gazing around and looking for something singular to photograph. Lance had his notebook out already, spouting out random words. Keith would define them or expound upon them until Lance could repeat what he said. 

Keith was crouched by a wildflower by a clump of trees, focusing on the drops of water on the petals. Out of nowhere, Lance said, “My mom is inviting some family friends over this weekend. I’m having a bonfire by the barn Saturday night. Wanna come?”

Immediately, Keith was swarmed with worry. “Well- well, who’s gonna be there?”

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want,” Lance said quickly.

“No, no, I wanna come,” Keith assured him. “I just- who’s gonna be there? I don’t… know a lot of people.”

“Probably just Hunk, Pidge, you, and me. Maybe a cousin. Maybe a family friend. Who knows?” Lance shrugged. “I was thinking about asking Nyma to come, but now I don’t know.”

Keith’s throat tightened. “Why not?” He tried to steady his arms, but he kept twitching.

“I dunno, she just hasn’t seemed as interested lately. Or maybe I’m not interested because...” Lance made a face. “I guess it’s me. She just…” Lance trailed off. “I mean, it was  _ her _ house it happened at, Keith.”

Keith relaxed his arms in an effort to stop shaking. “Yeah,” he agreed softly. “It was.”

“And I know it’s wrong,” Lance continued, sitting cross-legged next to Keith, tapping his pencil on his notebook- “but I can’t help but think- she let that guy in her house. The…  _ rapist _ . Or attempted rapist. But I mean, let’s be honest- it might not have been the guy’s first time doing… that.”

“Lance,” Keith said, setting his camera down. As jealous as he was becoming of Nyma, he wasn’t going to let Lance think like that. “It wasn’t her fault. Eiffel is her friend. She wouldn’t have let that happen if it’d been up to her. She would probably be shocked to find out that almost happened.”

Keith didn’t even realize he’d grabbed Lance’s wrist and steadied it until Lance looked down at his pencil, which had ceased its tapping. Keith tinged pink and pulled away, picked the camera back up, and cleared his throat. “If you want to invite Nyma, then go for it.”

Keith took the picture and looked at Lance, who was smiling just a bit. “Yeah,” he said. “I think… I think I’ll try that, then.”

He gave Keith an even wider, more genuine smile. And Keith’s heart clenched.


	8. Unsteady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unsteady by X Ambassadors: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V0lw3qylVfY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh poor keith
> 
> this is the beginning of Pining Keith^TM

“Oh, I’m going another date with Physics Guy tonight, by the way,” Shiro said over the couch. “We’re leaving a bit later.”

“Have fun,” Keith answered, pulling on a sweatshirt and stretching. “You ever gonna tell me his name or introduce him?”

“Don’t know if it’s even serious.”

“So I have to tell you everything that’s happening in my love life, but I don’t even get a name from yours?” Keith pouted. “That’s not fair.”

“Sucks to suck!”

“I’m off to Lance’s. See you.”

“How’s that going, by the way?” Shiro turned his head and gave Keith a shit-eating grin. “I know this is ironic given what you just said. But. How is that going for you?  _ Lancey Lance _ , as you so fondly called him,  while you were stoned to the bone.”

Keith immediately thought of how he also called Lance ‘priddy’ and ‘sturng.’ “Nothing’s going, Shiro. You know, his  _ girlfriend _ is coming tonight.” 

“Oh, he’s straight?”

“No… but he’s a bit more into girls, I guess.”

Shiro turned back to his book. “Mm, what a shame. It’s okay, Keith, he’ll come around.”

“ _ Goodbye _ , Shiro!” Keith called, waltzing out the door. He ignored the blush (how many times was that, now?) and went outside, closing the door behind him. He popped his helmet on his head and started off to Lance’s house.

Panic set in when he pulled into the driveway and he didn’t recognize any of the cars already there. 

He texted Lance-  _ Where should I go? _ \- and started walking towards the gate that led to the back. His phone dinged-  _ Hunk and I are in the barn _ (Thank God someone he knew was already here)- and he started towards the barn. 

Hunk and Lance were sitting by an empty fire pit, tearing up newspapers and laughing. “Hey, Keith!” Lance greeted, grinning.

“Hey, Lance. Hunk,” Keith said, nodding. He sat down in a chair and raised an eyebrow at the cold pit. “So, bonfire, huh?”

“We’re working on it,” Hunk said sheepishly.

“Do you not know how to start a fire?” Keith asked in disbelief.

“It’s been a couple years!” Lance said defensively, rubbing two sticks together half-heartedly. 

Keith scoffed and twenty minutes later, there was a small fire in the pit. Lance had his hands over it, Hunk was toasting a marshmallow to perfection, and Keith was leaning back in his chair, staring at the sky, which was, sadly, overcast. 

“Want a marshmallow, Keith?” Hunk asked, holding out the bag.

If Hunk hadn’t already been offering it, Keith probably would’ve said no, just so Hunk wouldn’t have to move. But he also would’ve felt awkward saying no, so he shrugged and plucked one out of the bag. He put it on one of the sticks that Lance had and stuck it straight towards the embers. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Lance practically shrieked. “You don’t  _ burn _ marshmallows!”

“I like the way the black part tastes,” Keith said, shrugging. He blew off the marshmallow and popped the whole thing in his mouth.

“I- what the  _ fuck _ , Keith?” Lance stared and then comically wagged his finger. “No. We don’t do that in  _ civilized _ households. This isn’t B.C., Mullet, this is 2018.” Lance put a marshmallow on the end of a stick carefully and held it almost  _ six fucking inches _ above the flames. “We don’t just burn them like  _ heathens _ .”

“They don’t taste good if they’re only lightly cooked,” Keith argued. “Then they’re chewy and hard and it’s gross!”

“ _ First _ of all, nothing is as disgusting as the literal  _ soot _ you just shoved down your throat-”

“Guys,” Hunk interrupted. “Not today, please.”

Lance looked like he’d suddenly had a great idea. “Actually, Hunk, you’re the professional chef-”

“No, Lance-”

“Which would you rather eat?” Lance asked, turning towards his best friend, ignoring Hunk’s attempt to avoid the question.

“No way, I’m staying out of this,” Hunk said, scooching his chair back. 

“It’s not that difficult of a decision, Hunk! One is disgusting and one is  _ the _ way to do it!” Lance argued, waving his stick around for emphasis.

“Marshmallows taste good when they’re burnt,” Keith insisted, “end of story!”

“They’re disgusting,” Lance said, shaking his head. “You’re eating  _ tar _ .”

“ _ Sugary _ tar that is delicious and that I love? Yeah,” Keith said. He blew another marshmallow’s fire out. “Scrumptious.”

Pidge arrived about thirty seconds later. She sat down in the green plastic lawn chair. Lance asked her, “Pidge, how do you eat your marshmallows?”

“Uh, almost burnt,” Pidge said. “They’re pretty good. I don’t mind if it is burnt, though.”

_ “What?” _ Lance practically jumped out of his chair. “How? It’s  _ nasty _ !”

“People have  _ preferences _ , Lance.”

Keith snorted. “Just eat your gummy marshmallows and be quiet.” He couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips when Lance pouted theatrically. 

“My marshmallows are the  _ epitome _ of perfection,” Lance huffed, and he plopped a second marshmallow on his stick before resting it a safe distance from the tip of the flames. 

“Is that a new word in your vocabulary?” Keith teased. Pidge put her marshmallow near Keith’s, just a bit further from the coals.

“Oh, shut it, Kogane,” Lance scoffed. “I know my shit. I’m a smart cookie.”

“Does that make me a whole bakery?” Pidge pondered aloud thoughtfully. 

“Fuck you!” Lance laughed. 

“I think you’d be a whole bakery  _ chain _ ,” Hunk said, smiling. 

Lance gasped, one hand grabbing his heart. “You  _ wound _ me, Hunk!” His stick dipped and he snatched it back up, panic flashing all across his face. “Oh, jeez, my marshmallow! It almost turned out like  _ Keith’s _ .”

Keith burst out laughing. “Oh, fuck  _ off _ !”

Pidge’s marshmallow caught fire. She frowned and blew it out, then sighed. “I messed it up. I mean, it’s gonna be good, but I messed it up.”

“Maybe that’s why I like burnt marshmallows so much,” Keith mused. “They’re fucked up, you know? Parallels.”

“Poetic,” Pidge said dryly. 

Another girl came over. “Hey, Lance. Guess who decided to come?”

“Allura!” Lance jumped up and hugged her. “I’m so happy you’re here! This is so cool!”

“Allura?” Keith asked. “Wait, like… Shiro’s friend, Allura?” He vaguely remembered Lance saying they were cousins.

She leaned to look past Lance and at Keith. “Oh, you’re the one from the swim practice!”

“Wait, Lance is your cousin, right?” Keith asked.

She stifled a giggle. “No, but we’re really close friends. Our parents were friends, so we figured we might as well be, too.”

She was as stunning today as the first time Keith saw her, even though she was only wearing leggings and a pastel pink sweater. Her hair was pulled into a bun, and she must’ve redyed it, since not even her roots were dark.

“Hey, Allura,” Hunk said. “Marshmallow?”

Lance’s phone beeped. He pulled it out, and his face lit up. “Hey, Nyma texted me!”

Keith almost flinched. 

“Nyma?” Allura questioned, accepting Hunk’s marshmallow.

Hunk sat up. “Well, what’d she say, Lance?” Hunk asked earnestly. “Is she coming?”

“I- yeah!” He smiled at Keith. “Guess taking your advice was a good idea. She’s coming tonight!”

“Congrats,” Keith managed. Lance was still grinning stupidly, Hunk high-fived him, and Pidge just smiled. 

“Well, Lance, you might actually make something of yourself and Nyma,” Pidge teased, “as much as I hate to admit it and didn’t believe you ever would.”

“Katie,” Allura scolded. “Be nice!”

Pidge stuck out her tongue. Keith was surprised Allura called her that, but maybe they had some unspoken, sisterly bond. Pidge didn’t look like it had bothered her at all.

Keith kept on his best smile, but it was like a nail in the heart. But what did he expect? Lance McClain, a varsity athlete and AP student. Of  _ course _ he’d catch someone’s attention.

He had just really hoped that  _ he _ would catch  _ Lance’s _ attention.

_________________________________________

  
But Keith would never say anything.

He hung out with Pidge, Hunk, and Allura (who was also 18) the rest of the night. They joked about leaving the “lovebirds” alone. Lance was excitedly showing Nyma around, she was laughing at all his jokes, she was blushing when he flirted (badly), she was in the exact position Keith wanted to be in without putting forth any effort.

Keith ended up pretending to yawn and having to go home “or Shiro would get annoyed” (despite the fact that Shiro was probably still out on his  _ date _ ). Hunk asked him to stay, but Keith had big plans- he was going to go home and wallow in self-pity for a couple hours before going to sleep.

Unfortunately, it only got worse.

Monday in Chemistry, Lance sat down and was slightly pink in the cheeks. “Guess what?” he said, grinning.

Keith found the smile endearing. “What?” He asked, smiling a bit. He rested his chin on his hand.

“Nyma’s my  _ girlfriend _ . We just agreed to be official in the hallway!”

Keith blinked once, and then again slowly. When he realized the smile had dropped from his face, he forced it back. “That’s great, Lance!”

But even to him, it sounded fake.

Lance didn’t seem to notice. He stared at the wall dreamily. “I showed her around the house. I was so dumb, I don’t know why she likes me. We got to the pine trees that line the fence- you know the ones I’m talking about?- God, Keith, I told her I could climb them really fast. She laughed anyway, though, so I guess she  _ does _ like me…”

Mrs. Stoll started talking and Keith seized the opportunity to shut Lance up about Nyma. “Gotta focus, Sharpshooter,” Keith said, smiling weakly. 

“Sharpshooter?”

“You aim for good grades?” Keith frowned. “I dunno, I thought Hunk called you that during lunch a couple times and it seemed like a cute nickname.”

“I  _ am _ cute,” Lance agreed, and they both turned their attention to Mrs. Stoll. Keith felt warmth on his neck. Lance called himself cute, in front of Keith, to Keith. He couldn’t help but overthink it, despite there being nothing to overthink. 

_ He has a girlfriend now _ .

Frankly, he couldn’t imagine anything worse. 

___________________________________________

  
Nyma started sitting with them at lunch.

Hunk didn’t really like her at first, but he gradually warmed up to her throughout the week. Keith tried to focus more on his homework than on Lance- and Nyma. They didn’t sit with Keith, Pidge, and Hunk on Wednesday or Thursday. But Friday, they were back, and  _ oh-so-in-love _ .

They were just so fucking  _ giggly _ . Nyma was beautiful, and probably the girl of Lance’s dreams. Maybe even the perfect significant other for him. Maybe that’s why it hurt so badly. Keith knew Lance was bisexual, had entertained the idea of being with him (subconsciously, never on purpose) and now it was like ice around his heart.

Keith was usually apathetic, or at least, he could force himself to be apathetic about things. Now, he was drowning in jealousy, which was strange, because he’d never felt this way before.

_ You’re going to take their photos at prom. _

The thought was intrusive and came from nowhere, and he didn’t want to think about it, but his mind ran away with it. The lonely photographer taking his crush’s and his crush’s girlfriend’s picture.  _ After they win prom king and queen _ . 

Keith kept writing mindless bullshit on his paper.

“Are you good?” Pidge asked suddenly, tapping on Keith’s shoulder.

“What?” He jolted. “Uh, yeah. Headache.” He scribbled out the last word he’d written when his train of thought ran away-  _ prom _ .

“Oh,” she said sympathetically. “I have Advil in my backpack if you need some.”

“Eh, I’ll be fine,” Keith lied, waving his hand. “I’m just struggling to focus.” He gave her a weak smile.

“How long has this headache been going on?” Pidge asked. There was a nice smile on her face, but her eyebrows were scrunched just a bit too much for her to be this easygoing. “You’ve been pretty unfocused the last week.”

“Pidge,” Keith said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

She frowned, but dropped it. 

_________________________________________

  
Keith started going to the gym a lot more, just to avoid thinking about Lance. The more he thought about him, the more he liked him. And the worse the jealousy got. Especially February 14th. Tuesday, Keith bought 3 grams of pot. Wednesday, he smoked to get away from the crushing loneliness of Valentine’s Day.

He even made a stupid decision he hadn’t made since he was 15. He went to the back parking lot outside the school and smoked after fourth period. He couldn’t function, but he didn’t care. 

_ Why did you have to have a fucking crush on him? _

“Keith, are you-” Pidge’s eyes narrowed. “You  _ stink _ .”

“Yikes,” Keith deadpanned. 

“Are you- are you fucking kidding me?” She hissed, yanking his wrist, pulling him away from the other three. “What is going  _ on _ with you?” She pulled Febreeze (sure, why not?) out of her backpack and checked the computer room for teachers before spraying it over Keith’s clothing.

“Nothing,” Keith muttered.

“Do you need medication again?”

He grinned lazily. “This  _ is _ my medication.”

“I can’t believe you got baked at school.”

“Yeah.”

She clenched her fists and sighed. “Why?”

Keith’s eyebrows scrunched and he frowned. “Because. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, Pidgey.”

“Is it because it’s fucking Valentine's Day?” Pidge was seething. “News flash, moron- a lot of people are single. Get over it. Stop smoking pot at school. I thought you were done with that shit. Not on  _ school property _ !”

Keith abruptly stood up. “I gotta go.”  _ A lot of people are single. _ Just another reminder that Keith didn’t have actual problems. And honestly, the fact that the guy he liked had a girlfriend? Not the end of the world.

_ Get over it. _

He ended up walking to Mrs. Alfie’s room and taking a nap in the corner of the classroom. She wasn’t there until the end of lunch.

_____________________________________

  
Three weeks into Nyma and Lance’s new relationship, towards the end of February, Lance, Keith, Pidge, and Hunk were at Keith’s house, sitting in the living room, while Shiro was out with Matt. They were having a big study session. Hunk and Pidge were working on their computer science work together while Lance and Keith worked on their new English essays.

Lance was fidgeting with his pencil again and kept switching positions in his chair, from slouching so far he was practically sitting on his back to sitting so straight you could press a ruler to his back.

“Are you okay?” Pidge asked, annoyed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance said distractedly, looking all around the bland living room.

Keith watched Lance’s pencil absentmindedly tapping on the Chemistry notes he’d taken earlier. “Are you gonna read your notes and study?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, uh, I mean, I guess,” Lance said, and he let out a short breath of laughter. “Shit. Uh, yeah.” He leaned over his notebook and moved his eyes, but Keith didn’t think he was really reading.

“What the fuck are you so anxious about?” Pidge snapped. 

“Nothing!”

“Dude, you’re such a bad liar, it physically pains me,” Hunk deadpanned.

“I’m not anxious, okay? I’m just bored and I need something to do,” Lance said. “And I’m  _ trying _ to study, but it’s just words on paper, you know? I’m not gonna learn anything by reading.”

Keith stared at him from the other end of the couch. “That  _ is _ how you learn.”

Lance blew air out of his nose and slouched. “It’s just been an antsy day.”

“Does it have to do with Nyma?” Pidge asked.

Lance sat up straight. “Uh, I, no, but did she say anything? About me?”

Pidge snorted. “We don’t really talk to Nyma except when she’s with you. Not about Nyma, my ass.”

Keith didn’t want it to be about Nyma. He wished Lance wasn’t romantically interested in Nyma, or that Nyma wasn’t romantically interested in Lance. He didn’t want to be romantically interested in Lance, but that was definitely where his heart was headed from the way fourth period had gone more than half a month ago… and from the way he’d been feeling for the entirety of Lance’s relationship with Nyma.

“So, what’s this about Nyma?” Hunk asked excitedly. 

Keith leaned back into the couch arm and smirked. “Nyma, huh?” He hoped they couldn’t tell he was actually  _ incredibly _ interested.

Lance huffed. “We’re still dating, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Keith said dryly.  _ Maybe. But not for the reason you’d think. _

Pidge snorted. “Yeah, you guys are all over each other at lunch. I have no doubts about your dating status. Your  _ relationship _ status, however…”

“She’s still my girlfriend!”

Keith’s throat closed up.

“Well, duh,” Pidge said, rolling her eyes. “But how  _ close _ of a girlfriend?”

Lance burned bright red. “We haven’t  _ done it _ , you little pervert!”

Pidge flushed and stared. “You  _ know _ I’m ace as  _ fuck _ , so that’s not what I meant, you goddamn sex addict! Like, are you guys sharing  _ secrets _ and shit, not just kissing!”

“Oh. I’d be happy to talk about Nyma all day, honestly, but not about secrets and things we share with each other.”

“I’m not asking for her secrets. I’m just trying to figure out why you’re anxious about her.”

“Oh.”

“Lance, what dirty shit have you already told her?”

“Nothing!” Lance sat straight up again. “Well, nothing you guys don’t already know.”

“Like what?” Keith asked, interest piqued. 

“Nothing!” Lance said again, more hastily. 

Pidge looked smug. “I could think of a few things.”

“No, you definitely couldn’t-”

“ _ Relax _ , Lance. I’m not gonna tell him anything you don’t want me to.” She smirked. “Even if one very specific thing comes to mind.”

Lance looked way to red to be comfortable. “Pidge, please don’t even reference  _ it _ .”

She put her hands up in mock surrender. “You got it. No more mentioning.”

He slumped. “Thank Christ.”

Keith was still lost, but he figured it was something embarrassing that happened years ago. “Can you please help me with not repeating words in this essay?” He asked Lance, pushing his outline towards him.

Lance frowned at the paper. “Just Google  Thesaurus.com and pick random words that sound good, Keith. That’s what I do when I’m stuck.”

“Can you read it and make sure my grammar isn’t shit?”

“It’s an outline. Your grammar  _ should _ be shit.”

“Oh.” Now Keith felt stupid. “I don’t think I’ve ever written an essay properly. I kinda just go for it and then turn in whatever I have.”

“How did you even pass English the last three and a half years?”

“I almost didn’t,” Keith reminded him. “Stoned to the bone all day, remember?”

“My mom would’ve whooped my ass if I came home barely passing and stoned.” Lance pulled his laptop out of his bag and started typing, glancing at his outline. “I’ll edit your actual paper, but I’m not dealing with your outline, buddy.”

“Damn,” Pidge said sympathetically. “Lance used to edit  _ my _ outlines. Sucks to be  _ you _ , Keithy.”

“That was when I wasn’t a senior,” Lance retorted. “And it wasn’t much work to edit anything you wrote.”

“Focus on your computer science bullshit, gremlin,” Keith shot back.

She snickered and kept typing away in the 3D Model program she had open on her computer. Hunk was tapping at something on his computer and they started comparing models.

Lance kept typing, but his eyes looked bored and he didn’t look into it. Then again, did anyone ever look “into” writing an essay? “Are you okay?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Lance breathed, looking up. “I mean, I think I am.”

“Well, shit,” Keith said. “Can I really ask for anything more than that?”


	9. This Is Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Is Me from The Greatest Showman (BOMB ASS MOVIE!!!): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CjxugyZCfuw
> 
> also au where The Greatest Showman was on Netflix that quickly..........please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pidge is observant!

Hunk invited everyone to his house for a “fun little hangout” the third day of March.

Keith had never been to Hunk’s house and was somewhat scared to. He hated new places- it was new, and there were always strangers. 

First, he went to Pidge’s house to pick her up, since her mom had only just started teaching her to drive. “We’re taking the motorcycle.”

“I know. Shiro works today.”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. “You’re suspiciously even-tempered about it.”

She shrugged. “It’s just a motorcycle, Keith.” She took the helmet off the bookshelf by the door and put it on.

“Whoa, now I know something’s wrong. Just a motorcycle?”

She still didn’t completely face him. “You’ve been really depressed the last week. But now you’re fine again, and I know your mood is just going to plummet later. But you won’t tell me what’s wrong, so you obviously don’t want to so I figured I should just be quiet about it today.”

“Depressed?”

“Quiet. Smoking pot at school. Ring a bell?”

“I’m always quiet.”

“Sure, but the last time you smoked at school, you went home and almost killed yourself.” Pidge’s voice dropped low. “So. Yeah. Depressed, I think.”

“It was just Valentine’s Day.”  _ And the fact that somehow I fucking fell in love with a guy who’s perfectly happy in a relationship with a girl. _

_ Wait, fell in love? _

Keith didn’t even know he was  _ capable _ of loving someone like that.  _ Just a really strong crush _ .

Pidge took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and opened them a moment later. “Yeah. Didn’t want to talk about it. Come on, Keith.”

“Wait, Pidge. I’m sorry, okay?” Keith scratched the back of his neck. “I really don’t know how to talk about it. Just… give me a little.”

“It’s been weeks. Let’s  _ go _ , Keith. You’ll love Hunk’s moms, by the way.” With that, she walked out the door towards the motorcycle.

____________________________________

 

She had relaxed by the time they got to Hunk’s. Hunk let them inside and both his moms immediately introduced themselves.

Hunk smiled and hugged his moms and didn’t get embarrassed when they gushed over him and his friends. That was one of the things Keith liked most about Hunk.

His moms (Elei and Alola) left them alone and went upstairs. Pidge sat on Hunk’s counter. Keith leaned against the other counter. Shay was already there, helping Hunk with his cooking. They were “sort of” dating, according to Hunk, but not officially exclusive.

“Hunk, your moms are really cool,” Keith commented.

Hunk blushed and smiled so wide, Keith was scared his face would break. “Oh, yeah, they’re super cool. I don’t think they’ve ever so much as yelled at me or fought with me… or with each other… they’re kind of perfect.”

“Not to burst your bubble, but lesbians usually are,” Pidge said matter-of-factly, smirking.

Shay giggled. “I think that’s really sweet of you, Hunk,” she said, bumping his hip. 

“Uh, well, yeah, just speaking the truth,” Hunk said, reddening slightly. 

Shay started rolling up dough into little cookie balls and setting them on the baking sheet. Hunk watched her do it, smiling. Pidge, who had walked over to Keith’s counter and sat on that, nudged him and jutted her chin at Hunk.

“He’s  _ so _ whipped,” she whispered.

The doorbell rang, and Keith looked up at the entrance. “Hey, it’s Lance!” His face broke out in a grin despite his heart telling him to pull it together. Pidge looked at him and back at the door.

“Yeah. Didn’t you know he was coming?”

“No,” Keith said, still smiling almost uncontrollably. 

“Can you guys get the door?” Hunk asked. He had started to help Shay with the second baking sheet.

Keith stood up and walked with Pidge to the front door. He opened it, still grinning, and said, “Hey, Lance!”

Then he saw Nyma next to him and he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.

“Oh, and Nyma!” He hoped it didn’t sound too fake.

“Yeah, Hunk invited her, too!” Lance was beaming. 

“Hello,” Nyma said, giving a small wave. She was wearing a purple sweater and leggings. “Nice to see you guys again!”

Keith turned and bumped into Pidge, who had been staring at him. “What?” He asked self-consciously. 

She flinched and started moving back towards the kitchen. “Nothing. Well, Lance, Nyma, Hunk and Shay just put the cookies in the oven, so there’s only like, 15 minutes until we eat them!”

“You have to let them cool, Pidge,” Keith reminded her.

“Only if you’re weak.”

Nyma stifled a laugh and they all went to the living room. Hunk and Shay came out a few moments later and Hunk started playing  _ The Greatest Showman  _ off of Netflix. 

The afternoon went by smoothly- Lance and Nyma sat together on the mini couch, Hunk and Shay sat on little chairs on the ground, and Keith and Pidge sat across from each other on the sofa. Hunk stood up and brought out the cookies to everyone.

It was a really great movie- usually, Keith couldn’t stand musicals, but this one was exceptional. His gaze kept slipping to Lance. 

He made eye contact with Pidge twice, and both times she was already looking at him, frowning. He made a face like,  _ What? _ And both times, she simply looked back at the TV.

Pidge and Keith left about an hour after the movie ended. “Why did you keep looking at me?” He asked while putting his helmet on.

She put her helmet on, too. “I don’t know. I was pretty out of it.”

“Oh.” He felt like she was lying. He swallowed nervously and got on the bike. When they got back to the Holts, she hopped off the bike and hugged him goodbye.

“I hate the bike, but I sure love not walking,” she said. “See you Monday, Keith!”

“Bye, Pidge,” he said, not quite sure where the hug had come from. 

He went to the gym for two hours and then went to West Park to take pictures of the sunset over the lake. 

Before he walked through the front door of the house, he pulled a joint out of his pocket. It was already half-smoked from a week ago. He finished it and then walked back inside, feeling significantly more relaxed about the whole day than he had minutes before. Pidge’s unnerving behavior didn’t bother him anymore.

Inside, Shiro was making French toast. “Hey, Keith. How was Hunk’s? You were gone longer than I thought you would be.”

“Oh, I went to the gym and the park. Fresh air, you know?”

Shiro cocked an eyebrow. “Any particular reason?”

_ Lance and Nyma cuddling on the couch. _ “No, I was just in the mood.” He hoped he didn’t smell too bad. Shiro wouldn’t be angry, but he wanted to keep it a secret.

“Well, it’s nice to see you out and about. That’s three places you’ve gone today.”

“Yeah. I mean, I hate going out places. The public, you know? But Hunk’s moms were super nice and I didn’t feel out of place, which was really weird.”

“Out of place?” Shiro frowned.

“Yeah,” Keith said. “You know when you go somewhere new and you’re just really worried about doing things wrong? Same thing with school presentations and eating in public.”

“What’s got you so talkative?” Shiro asked, somewhat suspicious. 

“Oh.” Well, at least he didn’t smell. So much for keeping it a secret. “I, uh, smoked half a joint before I came in here.”

“Are you serious?”

“It’s been a stressful day! This helps me deal with everything.”

“Stressful?”

“You know… anxiety-inducing.”

Shiro paused and flipped a piece of French toast on the pan. “Have you spoken to Mr. Smythe recently?”

“No, why?”

“How often do you feel like that?”

“Stressed?”

“Anxious.”

“Um, I don’t know. About the same as everyone else.” Keith shifted on his feet. “You know. Presentations. Eating. New places. Grades.”

Shiro took the French toast off the pan. “Maybe you should talk to Mr. Smythe about it. Just once,” he said before Keith could open his mouth to argue. “Monday. Don’t care when, just do it. Say everything you have to. And don’t hide anything. I just don’t want you smoking to deal with things again.”

The  _ again _ had the intended effect. Keith looked down. “Okay. I will. Monday.”

Shiro smiled. “Thank you. Now, how many pieces do you want?”

____________________________________________

  
Keith and Lance started a Chemistry project in fourth period. Lance seemed extremely quiet.

“Are you okay?” Keith asked. Lance hadn’t been tapping his pencil at all while he was reading the AP textbook, and the silence was unnerving Keith.

“Uh, yeah,” Lance said, sounding somewhat disconnected. “Sorry. Sunday- yesterday- was um, kinda weird.”

Keith frowned, but when Lance didn’t elaborate, he didn’t press on.

The bell rang, and Keith waved goodbye to Lance before going to the counselor’s office. That morning, he’d stopped by to make sure Mr. Smythe would be available at lunch. 

He walked into the office and sat down across from Mr. Smythe. “So, Keith,” he said, leaning back. “What brings you here today?”

“My brother,” Keith said.

Then he took a deep breath and spent the next twenty minutes talking about what makes him worried and how he reacts to those things.

Mr. Smythe listened, and when Keith was done, he said, “Keith, have you ever considered the fact that you may suffer social anxiety? Or general?”

“Well yeah, Shiro said that’s another word for worry.”

“No,” Mr. Smythe said, sitting up and leaning forward. “I mean General Anxiety Disorder.”

“Disorder?” Keith asked. He leaned back in his seat and glanced at the door. The last thing he needed was a brand new mental illness.

“Yes. Now, I can’t diagnose you. I’m not sure if you really want to seek medication. Really, how you proceed from here is up to you. But I am about 90% sure you have anxiety, the same way I was sure you had depression.”

“Well, you were right about the depression.” He really wanted to leave.

“Yes. Now, you could go to a therapist and get diagnosed, or go to a psychiatrist and get a prescription for medication to help you deal with this once you get a diagnosis. Or you could Google ways. It depends on how severe it is.”

“I don’t think it’s really severe. And…” Keith hesitated. “Well, I don’t know if… we can afford medication right now.”

“I can try and find some therapists that take your healthcare if you want,” Mr. Smythe offered kindly. “I understand if you can’t afford medication right now. You’re also free to come into my office and talk if something in particular is giving you anxiety. But please keep in mind that I’m the counselor for the class of 2018, and we’re nearing the end of the year, so I might be busy, but if you schedule an appointment, I’ll be happy to pull you out of a class for a little or see you at lunch.”

“Um,” Keith said, looking down and fidgeting. He rubbed his thumb against his index finger. “Okay. Thanks, Mr. Smythe. That actually… helps.”

“Any time you’ve felt broken or like you’re overreacting, it might’ve been caused by the anxiety. And if you’ve had it your whole life or developed it as early as sixth or seventh grade, then I’m not surprised you didn’t think you had a disorder,” Mr. Smythe said. “It would’ve felt normal since that’s the part of your life you remember the most. Do you need anything else, Keith?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Keith said slowly. “Uh, bye, Mr. Smythe.”

“Have a good Monday!”

Keith went to Mr. Hutch’s computer room. He found Lance, Hunk, and Pidge with no Nyma in sight.

“Hey, guys,” Keith said, sitting down.

“How was Mr. Smythe?” Lance asked. 

“Okay. He said, um…” Would they think he was broken? Would they not want to talk to him anymore?

It struck him very suddenly that none of them would leave him if he had anxiety. They were his  _ friends _ . And the only reason he was even worrying about it- scratch that,  _ anxious _ about it- was  _ because _ of the anxiety disorder. He took a couple of quick breaths and blurted it out.

“He said I probably have general anxiety.”

Pidge’s eyebrows shot up. “Holy shit. That explains so much.”

Hunk gave him a small smile. “Hey, me, too.”

Lance just said, “Well, hopefully that takes a load off your mind.”

Keith could breathe easy. He almost grinned like the frickin’ Cheshire cat. The anxiety had been  _ wrong- _ they were his friends, and they were still with him. A mental illness wasn’t going to isolate him.

Maybe recognizing that was the first step to treating it. Of course he still had a long way to go. But that was a nice thing to realize.

_____________________________________________________

  
Tuesday, Nyma was in the computer lab with them again, but there wasn’t the same energy. Keith tried not to notice it, tried not to love it, tried not to think about the millions of ways this tense atmosphere could work in his selfish favor long term.

She left halfway through lunch. He noticed the look she gave Lance before she left- somewhat sad. Her hand lingered on the doorframe, but it dropped and she walked out.

Wednesday, Lance went to hang out with her, but came back less than twenty minutes into lunch.

“What’s going on with you two?” Pidge asked.

“We’re just in a rut,” Lance said. “The bisexual power couple, struggling, just like every other couple that isn’t a power couple.”

“Nyma’s bi, too?” Keith asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Lance said.

“Fun,” Keith said.

“I guess,” Lance said. “But now… she’s… well, I’m not sure… but…” He pressed his lips together. “Never mind.”

Keith didn’t read into it much.

_______________________________________

  
Friday, Lance texted Keith.

_ can i come over? _

Keith blinked. He was at West Park, which he’d started visiting more since originally coming with Lance. He’d been walking for 15 minutes and paused for a water break. He took another sip from the bottle before replying.

_ I’m at West Park. Are you all right? _

_ when will you be home? _

Keith frowned. So he wasn’t okay. But why was he coming to  _ Keith _ ?

_ In about twenty minutes. Come at 7? _

_ yeah. thanks, man. _

Keith was still confused at the end of the walk. He went home and finished changing into a T-shirt and shorts just as he saw Lance’s car pull into the driveway. He went downstairs and opened the door.

“Are you okay?” Keith asked the moment he saw Lance.

Lance looked at him. He looked like a wreck. “Nyma broke up with me.”

Instantly, Keith was flooded with emotions. He’d been expecting this because of how the week had been going, hoping for it, even. But Lance looked distraught, so he shoved away everything that made him want to scream with joy and victory dance in a circle for hours on end. “I’m sorry.”

Lance took a deep breath and chuckled. “Yeah. That’s what I thought you would say. But I’m not… I don’t know.”

Keith stood there awkwardly before remembering: “Oh, shit. Do you, uh, wanna come in?”

Lance laughed and walked in. They went to the back porch- it was a surprisingly sunny day, so it was warmer. Keith was glad spring was coming.

“What happened? You guys were so happy on Sunday.”

“Happy doesn’t always mean the couple is a good match,” Lance said. “Sunday… that was made obvious. We were, um, a little tipsy, and we were at her house, and her parents were gone.”

“Oh,” Keith said. “You…”

“No. But we almost did. I don’t know. I just couldn’t… We were talking, first. About our future. I want a family, I want to settle down somewhere. I want to belong somewhere. But she… she wants to travel. She wants to live in fucking  _ Europe _ . Said she doesn’t want kids. We’re polar opposites, Keith.”

“She wasn’t gonna change her mind?”

“Been set on all those things since she was in elementary school,” Lance grumbled. “So we were sitting there, just a little tipsy, and it dawns on us that if neither of us changes our minds… we’re not gonna make it as a couple. We just aren’t meant to last.”

“Does any high school relationship?” Keith asked, laughing nervously.

“Fair point. But then we… oh shit, this is embarrassing to say out loud.” Lance leaned forward in his chair and covered his face with his hands. “We tried to  _ do _ it.”

“Tried?” Keith echoed. 

“And failed. Miserably.” Lance sighed. “We just aren’t compatible. I mean, a short term relationship… sure. But the moment we tried to take the next step, to move on from happy to loving… I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t see myself falling in love with her. And she felt the same way.”

“So you broke up?”

“No. We spent this whole week trying to reconcile. I didn’t want to give up on her so quickly. But it just wasn’t working. The crush was better than the reality, I guess. And now that I think about it… we weren’t even really romantic. We hung out and we kissed, but I never felt like… like the kissing really meant something. If that makes sense. So it hurts less than I thought it would.”

“But you wanted her.” Keith couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice- he knew how much Lance had liked her before they got together.

“Sometimes what you want isn’t what you need,” Lance said, smiling sadly. 

They sat in silence for a moment. “Why’d you come to me?” Keith asked. Lance quirked an eyebrow. “I mean,” he added hastily, “I’m glad you did. But why me? What about Hunk and Pidge?”

“Hunk is out with Shay tonight. Pidge is playing DnD with Matt. Besides, we’re friends. I figured you were someone I could go to and trust.”

“Two months ago, you hated me.”

“A lot can change in two months. Look at me and Nyma,” Lance said. “Two months ago, I was infatuated. But the more I think about it, that’s all it was. Mutual infatuation. Not… love.”

Keith blinked. Was he infatuated with Lance? “Are you sure?”

Lance looked up at the sky, which was beginning to darken. Stars were sprinkled in the dusk. “Yeah. It’s okay. This forced week of our dying relationship has been more painful than I think this breakup ever could be.”

Keith looked up at the stars, too. They talked about small things- summer plans, ice cream flavors (“I’m lactose intolerant, but I fucking love ice cream,” Keith said), upcoming soccer tryouts.

Lance ended up nodding off. Keith fell asleep shortly after.

______________________________________

  
Fortunately, Shiro woke up Keith, who woke up Lance. They stumbled in the door to the living room. Lance slept on the sofa, and Keith slept on the living room chair.

______________________________________

  
Monday came soon enough. Nyma wasn’t with them at lunch, of course. Hunk and Lance were talking animatedly about something to do with a show they watched over the weekend. Keith felt a lot better now that he didn’t have a crush on someone he had no chance with.

Pidge elbowed him. “Is your month-long headache gone?”

“It wasn’t that long,” Keith said, smiling. “But yeah. I’m doing good.”

She just kept looking at him with the same dead expression. Keith just brushed it off.

Until Pidge was incredibly sober when Keith found her at the end of the day. “Ready to go home?”

She turned and looked at him, her gaze…  _ serene _ . “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice, Keith?” She asked softly, looking up at him with eyes that could only be described as disappointed.

Keith’s heart dropped. “Uh- what?” He wracked his brain trying to think- what had he done recently that would piss off Pidge? Or- jeez, or  _ disappoint _ her, which was easily a thousand times worse. 

“Lance.”

“What about Lance?” Did Lance tell her something? Was Lance mad at Keith? She couldn’t  _ know- _

“Oh, Keith,” Pidge said sympathetically. “You have a giant fucking crush on him.”

The air left Keith’s lungs. “I- what?”

“You have a giant fucking crush on him,” she repeated. She reached to the top of the locker and pulled the helmet out. “It’s okay. I won’t tell him.”

“I wasn’t worried you’d tell him-”

“So you admit it?”

Keith maintained a neutral expression. “I mean… sure, he’s really… conventionally attractive.”

“Are you fucking  _ kidding _ me? Is that the best you can come up with?”

“What do you want me to say, Pidge?” Keith hissed, glancing around the hallway to make sure it was clear. “Do you want me to confess that I’m in love with him?”

“Did you only dislike Nyma because she was with Lance?”

“I was jealous, but I didn’t dislike her. She was nice, she was just…” Keith trailed off.

“Lance’s girlfriend,” Pidge supplied.

Keith smiled weakly. “Your words, not mine.”

Pidge gave Keith a sarcastic, winner’s know-it-all grin. “Of course. Now, come on, Lover Boy. I  _ seriously _ need a nap before I stay up until 3am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought i could do longer pining keith but i......am weak and cant stand to see my boys in pain


	10. Follow You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow You by Bring Me The Horizon: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-tVWt2RDsoM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sock er

Wednesday during Chemistry, Lance brought up the soccer season.

“This is going to be my fourth year, Keith. I don’t even know how I feel. And there’s another boy who might not even try out who might be the soccer captain, but I really want to be the varsity captain, and I keep telling myself I’ll be okay if I’m not but the other guy’s only been on varsity since last year, but he’s so good, so what if I’m not the captain? But what if he doesn’t even try out? And I want a captain that’s best for the team, and I really think that could be me, but if it’s him-”

“Lance,” Keith said, turning towards him. “Listen. I care a lot, okay? But right now, Mrs. Stoll is trying to explain something new. And honestly, you shouldn’t worry about it. You’ll be fine.”

Probably not the best way to deal with Lance’s emotions. Keith hasn’t been sure how to deal with Lance the last few days. He’s never been good with feelings. Now Lance is single, bisexual, and… Keith isn’t sure how to approach him. 

_ Hey, I’ve had a crush on you since like, January, and you just broke up with your girlfriend. Date me? _

Even socially-awkward Keith knew that wasn’t the best way to approach the situation.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, you’re right. We should focus,” Lance muttered, and he turned to take notes, but Keith was acutely aware of the fact that he was only tapping his pencil and not actually taking notes.

After Mrs. Stoll passed out a worksheet for homework, Keith shifted in his seat so he was facing Lance again. “I’m sorry about before. I just needed to focus.”

“It’s all right,” Lance said dismissively.

“No, I’m apologizing for a reason. Don’t worry, Lance. You’ll be captain. You were on varsity twice as long as the other guy. You made the team four times, remember?”

“But he’s  _ really _ good, Keith. And freshmen year-” Lance started to remind Keith that he hadn’t actually  _ made _ the team freshmen year. Keith ignored the attempt.

“You’re better,” Keith interrupted, and he was so convinced, he smiled. “Trust me. Iverson would be a fuckin’ idiot if he didn’t make you captain.”

Lance seemed to appreciate that. “Thanks, Keith.”

Keith couldn’t help but smile back. 

____________________________________

  
Keith couldn’t fall asleep that night. He checked his phone- it was 3:18am. He sighed and flopped down on the bed. A few minutes passed before he let himself check the clock again.

3:19.

He groaned, sighed, and stood up, slowly walking down the stairs, willing them not to creak. He quietly unlocked the back door and froze on the porch.

“Shiro?”

Shiro turned around. “Oh, hey, Keith. Fancy seeing you here. You all right?”

“Insomnia’s a bitch,” Keith said. “Why are you awake?”

Shiro shrugged. Even in the dim light, Keith could make out the dark circles under his eyes. “I don’t know why, but I’m getting some insomnia again, too.”

Keith stared for a moment before sitting down. “Oh. As in… nightmares?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said heavily, breathing out. “Nightmares.”

“Maybe they’ll pass again?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said quietly. “Maybe.”

“I’m really sorry, Takashi.” Keith felt his eyes burn with the beginnings of tears. “I… that sucks. I don’t know what to say.”

“Let’s not say anything, then,” Shiro said, turning his gaze back to the sky.

“Okay,” Keith agreed simply. He sat down. They stayed there, occasionally commenting on something, until Keith went back to his room at 5:07 in the morning.

__________________________________________

  
Six hours later, Lance bolted into the computer room, the widest grin Keith had ever seen stretching across his face, laughing and whooping.

“Varsity captain!” He yelled, waving around a piece of paper that was slightly crumpled where he was holding it. It had  _ Spring Sports Captains _ written on it. Lance slammed it down on the table and pointed at his name, which was at the top in bold. 

**2018 Varsity Coed Soccer Captain: Lance McClain**

Hunk threw his arms up. “Nice!”

“Did we ever doubt it?” Pidge deadpanned, but even she couldn’t hold back small smile.

Keith was full-blown beaming. “What’d I tell you? That other guy had nothing on you!”

Lance was ecstatic. “I know you guys kept telling me that, but jeez, I was still really worried… I think he quit because he wasn’t captain, though.”

“His loss. The team will be  _ amazing _ with you as a captain!” Hunk told him, ecstatic.

“You might even have an undefeated season,” Pidge said, still grinning.

“Coming from you, Pidge,” Lance said, flicking the paper in her direction, “that means a lot.”

She shrugged. “The good thing about being brutally honest is that when you compliment someone, they know you meant it.”

“We gotta celebrate,” Hunk said. “We have to remember the moment Lance became the varsity soccer captain!”

“Well, Lance, what do you wanna do?” Pidge asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Lance grinned. “I want a fucking  _ milkshake _ .”

He said it slowly ( _ milking it? _ Keith thought briefly) _ , _ sounding out each letter. Pidge rolled her eyes, Hunk snorted, and Keith frowned.

“Milkshake?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah. Lance knows how to make milkshakes from scratch,” Pidge said. “He just needs, like, a damn  _ gallon _ of whole milk.”

“It’s probably the only thing he can make better than I can,” Hunk admitted. “I’ll get it some day, though.”

“It’s a McClain family recipe, Hunk,” Lance said cheekily. “Only McClain  _ blood _ can make these milkshakes.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Hunk retorted.

“Boys,” Pidge said in her best ‘mediator’ tone. “You both make  _ lovely _ milkshakes.”

“So you want to celebrate by making milkshakes?” Keith clarified.

“How else would we celebrate?” Lance asked.

Pidge made a choking noise like she’d just been struck by lightning. “Oh my god!” She snorted once, then wheezed, “Keith is lactose intolerant!”

“Doesn’t stop me,” Keith said, crossing his arms over his chest confidently. “You’ve seen me eat ice cream.”

Lance grinned. “Oh man, I forgot you told me that. My milkshakes will  _ rock your world _ , buddy. They being all the boys  _ and _ girls to my yard.”

Hunk rolled his eyes. Pidge just sighed and cleaned her glasses. Keith snorted. 

Lance went off on a tangent about the team and what he was planning to do and how he would run their workouts and who he really hoped would come back from last year and-

And Keith was happy to let him talk.

___________________________________________

  
Keith and Shiro drank mint tea together on the porch for three hours, between 1 and 4am.

___________________________________________

  
Saturday, Keith and Pidge went to Hunk’s. “Shay couldn’t come today. She’s at a baking competition,” Hunk explained while they were sprawled on the living room carpet. “Lance should be here in like, 2 minutes.”

Pidge was flipping through Netflix. “So, fifteen?”

“Yeah,” Hunk said, turning onto his back. “Anyway, my mom is at work and my other mom is visiting her uncle for lunch since he’s in the city. I was bored, so I texted you two.”

Keith had been surprised when he checked his phone that morning and found 30 texts from a group chat with him, Hunk, Pidge, and Lance. Lance had named the group chat ‘The Pride’ because he liked lions and they were all, in their own ways, gay.

“Pidge, wait, go back,” Keith said, waving his hand and pointing at a title.

“Seriously, Keith? A  _ documentary _ ?”

“Documentaries are fun,” Keith argued.

She scoffed. “Sure.” She played the documentary- something about aliens. Pidge and Hunk were into it, Hunk wondering out loud what the consequences of finding sentient aliens would be. Keith wasn’t as invested into the conspiracy, but it was an interesting documentary.

True to Pidge’s word, Lance arrived ten minutes later. 

“To your credit, it only took eight minutes longer than you said,” Pidge called to the front door.

“Shush, Pidgeon, I was getting French fries,” Lance said, bringing up a giant bag. “I saw Five Guys on the way here and got distracted.  _ And _ I made milkshakes this morning. So if you want one, you have to be nice.”

She scowled. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. You’re my bestest friend ever and I love you.”

Lance gave her a cheeky smile. “That’s what I like to hear, Pidgey,” he said, and he gave her a milkshake.

The milkshakes were in giant mugs, and Lance hadn’t spared any love. There was whipped cream with different color sprinkles- yellow, blue, green, and red- and a single cherry on the tip of every one. They even had straws that were white with a stripe, with each one being a different color. Pidge took the one with the green and white straw.

“These look really cool,” Keith said, eyeing the one Lance had given him, which had a red and white straw.

“Yeah, and they taste even better with fries,” Hunk said, eating a Five Guys fry with a glob of milkshake on the end.

They ate fries, drank their milkshakes, and watched the documentary, which Lance was surprisingly into. “I love documentaries,” Lance said, stuffing ten fries in his mouth. 

“You do?” Keith asked, surprised.

“Oh, yeah. They’re fun. My mom didn’t like mindless TV, so I would watch documentaries to make her happy, but then I actually really started to like them. Don’t get me wrong, I also liked Nickelodeon and stuff, so I watched both.”

“I didn’t watch a whole lot of TV growing up,” Keith said. 

“Why not?”

Keith realized what he’d said. “I just, uh, well, I was in the foster system. So. Between families, there just… wasn’t time.”

“I didn’t know you were a foster kid,” Lance said, swallowing another fry.

Keith quirked an eyebrow. “You didn’t know I was a foster kid when you saw I was living with just my adoptive brother?”

“I figured you just lived away from your parents,” Lance said, shrugging. “I didn’t put a whole lot of thought into it. I was too busy pissing my pants cause I thought Churro was gonna murder me for bringing you home hammered.”

“Will you drop the Churro thing?” Keith asked, groaning. “It’s  _ embarrassing _ !”

Lance smirked. “It’s embarrassing? That’s one way to make sure I never forget it.”

Keith pushed Lance, who protested, “Hey!” and then laughed. “Shut it,  _ Lancey Lance. _ ”

“That’s not embarrassing,” Lance retorted. “I call  _ myself _ that.”

“So it is embarrassing?” Pidge asked innocently, pulling her eyes away from the TV, a smirk on her lips. 

“Honestly, you guys always attack me,” Lance said, leaning back against the couch. “It’s very discouraging.” He dunked three fries into ketchup.

“Only cause it’s so easy,” Pidge said teasingly.

“Plus, you can take it. Pidge dishes it out and then gets all whiny and pouty when we make fun of her,” Hunk said.

“I do not!” Pidge objected, sitting straight up and crossing her arms. 

“Case in point,” Keith said to Lance, at the same time that Hunk made a face like,  _ You see what I mean? _

Pidge threw a French fry at Hunk. “I hate you.”

“You know you don’t,” Hunk said, completely unfazed, picking the French fry off his shirt and popping it into his mouth. 

“Can we just watch Keith’s dumbass documentary?” Pidge asked loudly. “I’m  _ so _ over being the butt of the jokes.” Then she burst into laughter.

Keith rolled his eyes, smiling. “Yeah, yeah, says the one who’s  _ really  _ invested in it.”

_______________________________________________

  
Monday came again, unfortunately.

“Hey, guys,” Lance said, sitting down next to Pidge. “Keith, remember when you made varsity soccer freshman year?”

Keith cringed remembering  _ that _ conversation. Especially how awkward it had turned when he said his early high school years were “hard to talk about.” 

“Vaguely,” Keith answered, a little puzzled.

“I played that game like, once,” Pidge said. “Haven’t played a sport since 1992.”

“You were born in 2002,” Hunk said.

“Haven’t played since 1992,” Pidge repeated.

“And Keith, you were really good at soccer. Really good! Right?” Lance said, solely focused on him. His eyes were narrowed and his chin was resting on his hands.

Keith felt embarrassed under the scrutiny. He could  _ feel _ the anxiety oiling the wheels in his head. “Well, I was okay, I guess, you know… I was on the team, but I had to quit, remember?”

Almost immediately, he heard Shiro’s voice in his head.  _ “Why do you do this? Minimize your accomplishments? Why can’t you be proud of anything you do?”  _ Worse, he saw the principal, showing him his grades, and the number of reports he’d gotten from teachers.

He didn’t know why he couldn’t be proud of anything, but it hurt to remember why he quit. Maybe it was an anxiety.  _ It’s probably just a Keith thing. _

“Try out for the soccer team,” Lance said.

“Why?” Keith stared at him like he grew a second head. Keith could absolutely  _ not _ try out. What if he  _ made _ it? 

“I’m serious, Keith. Less than 20 people signed up. A couple more might not even come. The varsity team will have to take on some of the JV players if we don’t get some in. And most of the people on JV are freshmen!” Lance reached across the table and grasped Keith’s forearms. “Please? I know I seriously hated you after you quit, but now we’re like, best friends!”

Keith resisted the urge to rip his hands out of Lance’s hands. He was glad his hair was so long- Lance might’ve seen the blush forming on his face.  _ What a stupid crush to get.  _ “Uh, Lance, I think you’re severely overestimating my soccer skills.”  _ Best friends? _

“You’re a senior. You’ve gotta be better than any of the freshmen.”

“I haven’t played soccer since freshman year! I’m nowhere near as good! Besides, what if the freshmen are good?”

“They  _ aren’t _ . I’ve seen them! Please, Keith, I’ll practice with you,” Lance begged. “Keith, I’m the fucking team captain this year! You’ve  _ got _ to help me make a better team.”

“Lance, I am  _ so _ much more like a… photography wallflower than a varsity soccer player! I’ll probably be awful, and you won’t want me to play anyway. You know how much I zone out? And-”

“Keith, stop rambling and making excuses!” Lance said desperately. “Just practice with me after school. Come on dude,  _ please _ ?”

“I don’t even know if I’ll be  _ allowed _ to play!”

“Keith! Please, please, please just try? I  _ cannot _ let myself be the team captain that sucks total ass!”

Keith hated himself. His eyebrows were scrunched together, he probably had the angriest expression on his face, and he was definitely going to say no-

“Fine. But no promises! I won’t be as good as you think I am!”

“Yes!” Lance whooped. “Rebuilding the team, one player at a time!”

He left the computer lab to go hunt down more seniors, the brightest smile on his face. Keith buried his face in his hands.

“Why did I agree to that?” He groaned.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” Pidge asked.

“No,” he snapped. “I know I’m an idiot.”

But that wasn’t what Pidge was going to say. And they both knew it.

___________________________________________

 

Keith sent Shiro a text.  _ I’m staying after school for a bit with Lance. _

_ Why? _

_ Practice. _

_ For… _

Keith set his jaw. Would Shiro even be supportive? He clicked off his phone and jogged to catch up to Lance instead of answering. He didn’t really want to deal with anything Shiro said right then. 

“Okay, so do you think you’re okay with like, basic soccer?”

“Seriously, Lance. I haven’t touched a soccer ball in years.”

Lance held up his hands. “Yeah, yeah, you got it. Uh, okay. I mean, you can  still kick it, right?”

“Are you- yes, you giant dick, I can still  _ kick _ it!”

“You said you haven’t touched one in years!”

“Just- Jesus Christ- just start.”

After an hour of practice, they were both tired and Keith was sore because he hadn’t stretched as well as Lance before running around the field. And Lance was  _ so _ much better than he thought. He was lucky he was in shape. He couldn’t imagine doing this after years of  _ not _ constantly working out.

“I forgot what a bitch soccer is,” Keith groaned. Definitely different from staying in one spot on the treadmill. “Fuck. I suck, don’t I?”

“You aren’t fantastic, but you’re pretty good!” Lance said encouragingly. “It’s just that you should probably practice… a bit more.”

“Dick,” Keith huffed.

“One hour, every single day, at least,” Lance said, pointing at Keith. “The deadline is this Friday to turn in your medical forms so the school knows you can play.”

“You just spent an hour with me. I suck.”

“You’ll be better by Friday! And then there’s the first week of practice. And then April 7th is the first game.”

“The 7th?”

“Yeah,” Lance said. “The games are Saturdays at 4.”

“Saturdays?” Keith almost choked.  _ Are you fucking kidding me, Lance? Are you fucking joking? _

“It’s not ideal-”

“I hate you.”

“But you’re still doing this, right? I’ll even drive you to the games!”

Keith sighed and dropped his shoulders. “ _ If _ I make the team.”

______________________________________________

  
“Soccer.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“It’s a fun sport. I kinda miss it, if I’m being totally honest. Although I do suck. But it’ll come back to me.”

Shiro stared, unblinking. “You want to do soccer again. Why? What  _ prompted _ this? You were perfectly fine with photography.”

“Photography is still fun, shithead. I just would like to expand my horizons-”

“Is this a Lance thing?”

“A  _ what _ now?” Keith felt the flush creeping up his neck. “I- no! It’s not- I don’t even like Lance! That much! Not like that, anyway. What’s so weird about me just wanting to reconnect with soccer?”

“I know you like Lance. We had a whole conversation about it after you called him ‘Pretty Boy!’” Shiro rolled his eyes and took a bite of his Hot Pocket. “I can’t believe you. You’re trying to sign up for soccer again, because of  _ Lance _ ?”

“We’re really good friends,” Keith tried.

Shiro barked a laugh. “Yeah. Okay. Fine, you can do soccer-”

“I was gonna do it anyway.”

“-but I’m going to every single one of your games, even if I’m by myself, and I’m cheering for you.”

Keith choked. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” Shiro said. “Final.”

Keith sighed. “Yeah. Fine. Okay. Whatever.”

“I was gonna do it anyway,” Shiro said, grinning wickedly. “Maybe I’ll even convince Matt and Pidge to come-”

“Absolutely not, I won’t sign up.”

“Not even for Lancey Lance?”

“I’ll kick your  _ ass _ .”

“I could sit on you and the fight would be over!”

“I’m not that short!”

“Sure, sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Shiro said, grinning. “I guess I’m just that tall. Oh, and I’m not going to any of your games. I’d rather commit a felony than willingly walk into high school again.”

____________________________________________

  
Mr. Smythe was much more in favor of the idea than Keith thought he would be.

“I think it’s a great idea. It’s senior year. You want to play soccer. Why not let you play soccer?” He asked, nodding. “I think you’ll make a great addition to the team, Keith. I overheard Mitch in the teacher’s lounge talking about how there were 13 freshmen signed up for tryouts out of 21 people.”

“Thirteen?” Jesus.  _ No wonder Lance was so desperate. _ “Wow. Okay. I guess I’ll just go sign up, then.”

“You’ll do great. Even Mitch may be happy to see you. Good luck, Keith!”

“Thanks, Mr. Smythe,” Keith said, smiling. 

On his way out the counseling office, he bumped into Hunk. “Oh, hey, dude.”

“Hey, Keith. What’re you doing outside the counselor’s office?”

“I was talking to Mr. Smythe. About doing… soccer. Since Lance asked me to. You know?” Keith felt like he was rambling. “Uh. I was just checking… if he thought it was a good idea.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Hunk didn’t mean to be prying, Keith knew that, but he still felt weirdly uncomfortable. “W-well, because…” For a moment, he considered coming up with a lie. But this was Hunk. One of his friends. He could trust Hunk. “I got kicked off the team for anger issues freshman year. I was just seeing if he thought I was a bit more… mature.”

“I think you’ll do great,” Hunk said, patting his shoulder. “Lance was talking to me yesterday about how glad he was that you decided to try joining.”

“Lance was talking about me?” Keith’s heart started to speed up. “What did he say?”

“Just that you’re a lot better than you think you are. And he noted that you seemed really stiff- do the stretches with him before you practice, dude. That shit ruins  _ careers _ .”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. So what’re you doing here so early?”

“Oh, I came to talk to Coran about career paths for me. Thinking about counseling, too, or maybe social work. Baking is more of a hobby for me than anything else. Oh, and I was gonna try and organize a blood drive, but it’ll probably happen next year, so I’ll have to volunteer and stay in the area a bit. Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Keith said, blinking slowly. “Yeah, that sounds great. I would do that. Good luck, man.”

“Thanks,” Hunk said, beaming. “Anyway, see you around, Keith!”

“See you,” Keith said, waving.

________________________________________

  
So after school that day, Lance found Keith and brought him right to the soccer field outside. “I brought four water bottles in case you get thirsty.”

“All for me?”

“No, you greedy bastard, two for each of us,” Lance said. “Come on, you gotta stretch with me this time. I don’t want you pulling a muscle the day you show off to Iverson.”

“I gave him my papers today. I don’t think he’s forgotten the fact that I punched him in the face,” Keith said, sitting down in the grass across from Lance. “Jeez, it’s kind of cold today.”

Lance stared at him. “You punched Iverson?”

“Uh, yeah. Did I not tell you?”

Given Lance’s expression, he had not.

Keith started laughing. “Oh, man! It was after I was taken off the field. He made me go in the boys’ locker room and he started yelling at me about how I was gonna cost us the game over a stupid fight. I told him to shut up because he didn’t know anything, and then he said that I should only be focused on soccer. I was  _ so  _ mad, I just went for it.”

“I can’t believe you decked Iverson,” Lance said, stretching his leg and leaning.

Keith copied him. “I couldn’t, either. I was a little high, too, so then my nerves were just… shot. Shiro came and Iverson argued for expulsion, but I just got a suspension and kicked off the team.”

Lance ran him through a few different exercises. They went back into the school to refill their water bottles. By the time they were spent, it was almost 5.

“Three fucking hours,” Keith said, flopped in the dirt. “Three hours doing soccer bullshit just so your varsity team doesn’t suck.”  _ If I didn’t have this stupid fucking crush on you, _ he thinks, _ I wouldn’t even be doing this. _

“Hey, at least you’ll do great at tryouts!” Lance grinned, and Keith was  _ again _ struck by just how incredibly beautiful this boy was. He looked similar to the way he had  _ that day _ in AP Chem, except with more sun and- had he gotten tanner? Already?

“Yeah, if I don’t go into a coma beforehand. I’m going home,” Keith said, and he started to stand up.

“Absolutely not!” Lance sat straight up immediately. “You have to stretch  _ after _ , too, Keith!”

“Damn it, seriously?”

“Yes! It’s a cool down!”

Keith sat back down. “Fine. But a short one. I don’t want to sit here all day.”

“Okay, okay!” Lance stretched his arms all the way above his head and then leaned to the left. 

Keith’s brain short-circuited. Lance’s sweaty, disgusting abdomen was showing from under his big-ass T-shirt. But he was incredibly muscular. That was something he could definitely appreciate about a guy.

“C’mon, Keith, don’t zone out on me now,” Lance complained. “Stretch!”

Embarrassed, Keith copied Lance. “Sorry, sorry.” But he really wasn’t.  _ Fuck! _ They did a few more stretches, and then Lance yawned. 

“Tired?” Keith grinned. “Gotta work on that stamina.”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya,” Lance said, waving him off and grabbing his gym bag. They stood up and started walking to the student parking lot. “I’m trying to-  _ fuck! _ ”

“What?”

“My car is gone!”

“ _ What _ ?” Did someone steal Lance’s car? 

“Well,” Lance said sheepishly. “Not  _ gone. _ I took the bus this morning. Fuck! Keith, did you ride your motorcycle here?”

“Yes,” Keith answered slowly. “But I don’t know if I can get Pidge’s helmet right now. Are the school doors locked?”

“You’ll give me a ride?” Lance squeaked, grinning. “Really?”

“Of course,” Keith said, feeling a bit warm. “I mean, I’m not gonna make you wait for the damn bus. But I also really don’t want you to get on the motorcycle without a helmet. So we have to go to Pidge’s locker.”

“Let’s go then, Captain,” Lance said, snapping his backpack straps. 

The school was, in fact, unlocked. Lance said a quick “Thank you, Jesus” before they walked in. Only when they finally got out to Keith’s motorcycle did he remember that he was not the best at dealing with emotions concerning Lance, especially when Lance’s arms were wrapped around his fucking waist while they went 40 miles an hour.

Lance hopped onto the back while Keith eased his way on. “Man, I’m so excited,” Lance said in Keith’s ear. “I fucking love this motorcycle!”

Keith ignored the jackhammer in his chest. He also did his best to not show off, but he couldn’t help that he went just a  _ little _ over the speed limit.

“Dude,” Lance said, sliding off, “that was so cool. I love it. See you tomorrow after school?”

“Tomorrow in Chem, and lunch, and English,” Keith reminded him. “But also after school. Bye, Lance.”

“Bye, Keith!” He turned and jogged into his house.

Keith waited until the door closed behind him to pull out of the driveway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: lmao keith ur whipped


	11. Clairvoyant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clairvoyant by The Story So Far: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AG-dEWgGSc8

Keith walked into the house and yelled, “Fuck! Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ ! God  _ damn _ it!”

Shiro poked his head over the couch. “Something wrong?”

“Something is so wrong, Shiro,” Keith said. “So, so wrong. I am head over heels. I  _ hate _ him.”

Shiro sat up, significantly more interested than he had been moments before. “Oh? You admit it?”

Keith slumped into the armchair. “Yes. I admit it. I’m defeated, okay? I fucking  _ like _ him.”

“Ah, you love him,” Shiro said, turning back to his book.

“ _ No _ . I really hate him for this. Making me feel things. Emotional things. It’s so fucking awful, Shiro. I gave him a ride home today. On the motorcycle. After practicing soccer with him, for his stupid varsity team, for  _ hours _ !”

Shiro whistled and turned a page. “Wow. You really like him, huh?”

“Shut  _ up _ ,” Keith groaned. “Yes. I do.”

Shiro smirked. “Loser.”

___________________________________

  
And then it was Friday.

Lance and Keith had just finished their English homework together. It was 2:40, 30 minutes after the bell rang, when Iverson finally came out to the soccer field. Keith counted 19 people and recognized at least 4 other seniors. Among them were Luxia and Swirn. Keith wondered if Lance convinced them to try out.

He also recognized a couple juniors- Shay and Plaxum. He waved at Shay- she was much more muscular than he thought. She smiled and waved back.

Keith felt jittery. What if Iverson just immediately dismissed him? Would Lance even be able to do anything? “Lance,” he hissed, suddenly incredibly unsure, despite the literal  _ hours _ of practice he’d done this week and the stretching he was doing now.

“Keith, relax,” Lance said. “I  _ swear _ , you’re going on the team, whether Iverson likes it or not.”

Keith just cracked his knuckles anxiously and huffed when Lance started cracking his, too. “Don’t start this again.”

“I’m not starting anything,” Lance said innocently. He grinned and cracked them backwards. Keith groaned, but he couldn’t help laughing.

Iverson blew his whistle and several of the freshmen jumped. Lance and Keith stood up, and Iverson glared at Keith. Keith tried not to let his eyes flit to the eyepatch.

“Mr. Kogane. I’m surprised to see you,” Iverson said.

“I turned in my papers. You  _ shouldn’t _ be.”

Immediately, Keith regretted it.  _ Seriously? Sass the pirate just before he decides if you can join the team? _

“I was surprised you had the  _ nerve _ .”

Keith clenched his fists.  _ His eye is fine. He just wears the patch so he looks badass. We both know this.  _ “What can I say? I’m a ballsy guy.”

Ironic, considering his recent revelation that he has an anxiety disorder. 

Iverson narrowed his eyes. “Three laps.”

Keith narrowed his eyes, too. “I don’t-”

“Keith,” Lance said. “Come on. Don’t blow this for yourself.”

Maybe it’s the fact that Lance says “for yourself” instead of “for me.” Maybe it’s just the fact that it’s  _ Lance _ . But Keith says, “Yes,  _ sir _ ,” and stalks off towards the track. He’s glad, now, that Lance made him run at least six laps every day the last three days at West Park, and that he’s kept in shape on the treadmill. He’s sure he can do this without getting winded, even. 

Halfway through the third lap, he’s thinking he’ll be breathy. But not winded.

Iverson had everyone doing knee-high jogging in place. When Keith got to him, he said, “All right, everyone can stop. Took you long enough, Kogane.”

“Pretty good time,” Keith said, going to Lance.

Iverson just grunted. “Everyone choose a partner. I’m gonna see what you can actually do before I even think about varsity and JV. If you run out of soccer balls, group up into 3. If someone gets hurt, you can walk yourself to the nurse’s if the school doors are even unlocked. I don’t have time for scraped knees.”

Next to him, Keith heard Olia mutter, “Dick.” She walked towards the balls with Te’Osh.

Keith turned to Lance. “We’re pairing up, right?”

“I dunno, I figured Florona looked lonely,” Lance said sarcastically. “Of course we’re pairing up.”

Not wanting to leave anyone without a partner, Keith turned to look at Florona, another junior. Her hair, which looked an even more brilliant red in the sun, was tied into two French braids and she was rolling her eyes at something Swirn said. The three of them started walking towards the soccer balls- Keith should’ve figured they’d stick together.

They managed to chat while kicking the ball back and forth with one-touches. 

Ten minutes later, Iverson blew his whistle. “Okay! Obviously, some of you have never touched a soccer ball. Obviously, some of you are going to be on the team no matter what. Only some of you are going to make varsity, and then the rest of you will just clump on JV.”

“Jackass,” Lance muttered, looking down with his arms crossed.

“Seems to be the general consensus,” Keith whispered back. 

“We’re gonna keep doing drills. There’s another couple hours of tryouts tomorrow from 9 until 12, so be here, or you’re off the team. I am looking at you, Swirn.”

“I’ll be here,” Swirn said defensively. “I’m relaxed, not lazy.”

“Lay off us, Iverson,” Luxia said, putting her hands on her hips. 

“I’ll have you kicked off the team before the tryouts even end,” Iverson said threateningly. 

“We all know you can’t afford to kick off any of us if you want any chance of winning anything this season,” Swirn snapped. 

“Detention for both of you,” Iverson said flatly. “No arguments.”

Swirn scoffed. Iverson turned away. Luxia turned to Swirn and whispered, “He says that like we’re going to show up.”

Swirn stifled a laugh.

Keith turned to look at Lance and opened his mouth, but stopped. Lance was looking at Luxia. She was beautiful, and Keith felt the familiar rise of jealousy. “Luxia?”

“Huh?” Lance looked at Keith again and smiled sheepishly. “Nah. I don’t think so. She’s nice, but we’re friends. I don’t want to risk  _ that _ again.”

Keith felt like he’d been rejected without even asking.

“Ah,” he said. “Got it.”

“You just gotta appreciate the beauty of some people while you have the chance, Keith,” Lance said, smiling. “I think the team is gonna end up being okay, after all.”

“So I don’t have to be on it?” Keith teased.

“You absolutely do,” Lance said, shooting Keith a look. He kicked the ball to him. “You’re my right hand man.”

Keith felt his heart swell. The only other people who’d ever talked about him so fondly were Pidge and Shiro. “I- thanks.”

Lance’s smile curved even more upwards on one side, giving him the most endearing, cutest, lopsided look. “Why’d you think I wanted you to join?”

“Well, what about Hunk?”

“Hunk likes soccer, but hates Iverson too much, and he’d rather focus on cooking. I think he wants to be a nurse, you know.”

“Really? He was talking to me about a blood drive.”

“Yeah, it’s his little project he’s been pushing since February. I don’t know why he kept it quiet.” Lance shrugged. “He really wants to start it next year.”

Iverson ran them through at least fifteen more drills. Three hours later, Keith was drenched in sweat and struggling to draw breath. He cursed Iverson and emptied half his water bottle. 

Wiping his mouth, he said, “God, this is so  _ awful _ .”

“You’re coming to tryouts anyway, right?”

“My answer won’t change no matter how many times you ask that,” Keith said. “But only if you drive me.”

“I don’t blame you for wanting to get into my nice ass car again,” Lance said, smirking.

Keith rolled his eyes. “We’ll see how much you gloat when I’m sweating into your seats at 12 tomorrow.”

__________________________________________

  
Shiro looked at the watch on his wrist. “Don’t you have tryouts tomorrow?”

Keith shrugged. “Nine in the morning, yeah.”

“I can’t believe Iverson’s  _ still _ a dick. 9am?” Shiro rolled his eyes and passed the joint to Keith. “Does he really expect everyone there?”

“Crazy to think you wanted to work with him.”

“Don’t twist my words!” Shiro made a beckoning gesture with his hand, so Keith rolled his eyes and passed the joint back. “I wanted to work with high school students and stay in the area. But I also really want to teach at GU.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Keith said. His eyelids started to droop. “Fuck. That made me way sleepier than I thought it would.”

“Not too far behind you,”  Shiro said, slouching. “This actually helped. Very relaxing.”

“Well, it’s indica.”

“Oh, good. Good. If a cop comes, this is mine. I’m 25, so it’s legal.”

“You can buy edibles, you know.” Something Keith had brought up multiple times.

“Maybe as a graduation present,” Shiro said, standing up, swaying slightly. Keith let him finish the joint; he needed it more. “Goodnight, Keith.”

“Night,” Keith said. He let himself enjoy the cool air alone before heading inside.

__________________________________

  
“Rise and shine, pumpkin!”

Keith groaned. He glanced at the clock- it was 8:22 in the morning.

Shiro was in his face, grinning. “I got the most beautiful sleep last night. And right after you leave for soccer tryouts, I’m going to go back to sleep. Again!”

“TakaSHIT!” Keith hissed, fumbling out of his blankets. “Christ- oh, Jesus Christ-”

“I  _ did _ make you breakfast, though. I’m not a  _ total _ dick.”

Keith paused. “Okay. What did you make?”

“I put waffles in the toaster.”

“Holy shit. I love you,” Keith said, and he pushed Shiro out of his room. “I have to change. I have no idea when Lance is coming.”

“Oh,  _ Lance _ !” Shiro cried dramatically through the door. “I can’t wait for  _ Lance _ !”

Keith rolled his eyes, but he was also incredibly happy that Shiro was in such a good mood. He probably didn’t have any nightmares or insomnia, which put Keith in a good mood, too. Something Iverson would surely ruin, but that was a problem for another day. Or later today.

He pulled on red shorts and a white T-shirt. He pulled his old soccer cleats out of his drawer. He hadn’t been wearing them all week, but he figured now would be a good time to actually bring them.

When he went downstairs holding the cleats, Shiro’s eyes widened. “You still have those?”

Keith looked at them. They were old, beaten-up, and extremely dirty. “Yeah. I haven’t really thought about throwing them out.”

“Do they still even fit?”

Keith flipped up the tongue on the shoe. “Uh- yeah, they’re a 7-”

He head snapped up. Shiro was barely containing his laughter. “I- shut up, Takashi!”

“7!” Shiro grinned. “Baby feet. Come on, eat your waffles, Keith.”

“Not my fault you’re a hulking giant with giant feet,” Keith muttered, unevenly spreading butter on his waffle.

“I’m not that tall,” Shiro said. “Just… oh, 6’1? Maybe 6’2? Oh, what’s an inch or two?”

“I’m 5’10! That’s taller than the average male! I am  _ not _ short!”

“I wonder how tall  _ Lance _ is,” Shiro said, turning around to put more waffles in the toaster. “Six feet?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, everything about him is perfect.”

The words slipped out of Keith’s mouth before he even realized he was talking.

He slapped a hand over his mouth and his fork clattered onto his plate. Shiro’s cheeks were puffed, but he lost it after barely holding it together for three seconds. Keith covered his face, mortified.

Shiro opened his mouth to say something, but then there was a knock at the door, and he turned to go answer it.

“ _ Don’t _ be a Takashit,” Keith warned.

The door swung open anyway. “Oh, hey, Lance! Wanna come in?”

“Oh- yeah, thanks!”

Lance walked into the kitchen to see Keith stuffing his face. “Man, I always forget that this townhouse is actually pretty nice.”

“Good thing our neighbors aren’t snitches, either,” Shiro said, opening the refrigerator and getting out more butter. “Although I don’t like being in the middle. Waffles?”

“No, thanks,” Lance said. “I just ate a shitload of eggs, and I’m kind of scared I’m gonna puke during tryouts.”

“Don’t,” Keith said helpfully. 

“Thanks, Keith,” Lance said, rolling his eyes. “Come on, hurry up! It’s 8:37, we have to get there soon, or Iverson will penalize you!”

Keith pressed his lips into a flat line and looked down at his half-eaten waffle. “Can I bring them on the way?” 

“Fine, but I swear to god, I’ll kill you if I find syrup on the seats.”

“You aren’t gonna find syrup on the seats!”

“Tick, tock!” Lance called from the door. “Time to move!”

Keith shoved another fourth of the waffle in his mouth and started walking towards the door. Shiro gave him a thumbs up. He ate the rest of the waffle before he got to the car. 

Lance wouldn’t stop rambling the entire ride to the school. “So, Swirn and Luxia are on their second year of soccer. Of course, they’ve been on varsity both times. Florona’s on her second year, too, she’s been here since she was a sophomore, but she’s really good, which is how she made varsity when she was just a sophomore. Olia was on the girls’ team freshmen year, and convinced Te’Osh to play with her the second year…”

Keith let him talk until they were getting out of the car. Lance was awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. They stood at the edge of the field, watching a couple other people who had gotten there early warm up. They were six freshmen. Lance had never looked more crestfallen.

“Maybe they won’t be so bad,” Keith said.

“They’re freshmen, Keith,” Lance said. “At least 13 of the 21 people who signed up were freshmen. And then some people didn’t even show up.”

“Yes, they’re freshmen but… they have so much  _ potential _ .”

“I guess,” Lance said uneasily.

Keith couldn’t help but feel like Lance was being harsh.  _ They _ were freshmen once. He hadn’t really watched them try out yesterday, but they were  _ decent  _ and could make a  _ passable soccer team. _ But he also completely understood Lance not wanting to end senior year captain of a soccer team that was going to lose every game. He understood the anxiety Lance felt. Hadn’t he felt it every day of his life?

“Come on. Lance, you gotta watch them. Coach may be… Coach, but you’re still captain. You have to help him choose who to put on the team.”

“Yeah,” Lance said, shoulders drooping. “I guess.”

“Just watch them today, yeah? I promise, they’re not going to suck.” When Lance still didn’t smile, he said, “Listen, I’ve got a bet.”

“What?” At least he wasn’t frowning. 

“A bet. Like that stupid trash can thing. I bet these guys aren’t gonna suck as much as you’re afraid they will.”

Lance blinked. Then his mouth curved into a small smile. “All right. You’re on, Samurai. What do I get if I win?”

“If you win… I don’t know. Whatever you want. But if I win… You have to drive me to and from every single game this season.”

Lance laughed. It was short and abrupt. “That’s it? Sure. If I win, we have to get stoned together after every game we win. Which, if I win… won’t be very often.”

“Deal,” Keith said. He stuck out his hand. Lance stared at it, and he felt like a dork, and he considered withdrawing his hand, but then Lance took it and shook it. “But I have a feeling we’re gonna get stoned after every game anyway.”

“Well, we have to either celebrate or drive away the pain of defeat,” Lance said nonchalantly. He eyed Keith. “Joking. Don’t do drugs to deal with your problems, kids.”

Keith scoffed. “Tell the freshmen.”

They talked mindlessly about something in English until Iverson started yelling at the seniors for lounging around.

Lance crossed his arms and stood with his back straight, maybe to fool Iverson into thinking he was actually paying attention. Keith took the moment to appreciate how broad his shoulders were. “So, are they that bad?”

Lance pursed his lips and squinted. The sun was starting to get bright. “Those two could practice dribbling more. That one would make a good goalie, but he’s a shit midfielder. He keeps raising his hands instinctively, like he’s playing basketball. And those three are actually pretty decent and have probably been playing at least a couple years, even if one of them is weak with her left foot.”

“Wow.” Keith looked at the clumps of underclassmen. “You’re so goddamn  _ perceptive _ , you know that? It’s been like, fifteen minutes.”

“I’m a people person,” Lance said, shrugging.

“Yeah, a really good one,” Keith said. “You could have them focus on those things the last hour of tryouts so they can strengthen their skills for the team. If they’re the ones you want on varsity, anyway.”

Lance shrugged. “I wasn’t looking forward to my team being half 15-year-olds, but we can make do.”

Keith  _ really _ liked the way the sun caught Lance’s freckles. They weren’t always visible, but sometimes, they really stood out. There was a breeze, and his hair ruffled. Keith’s voice caught in his throat. Had anyone ever looked more beautiful than this?

“If anyone can pull together a team from this mess, it’s definitely you,” Keith said. 

Iverson walked up to them and threw a soccer ball at Lance, who caught it with a grunt. “You two still have tryouts. I have my eye on you, Kogane.”

Keith waited until he walked away to say, “All one of his eyes, huh?”

Lance snorted and they made a group with Swirn and Luxia. Florona was with Olia and Te’Osh. “Lance, you haven’t been at any parties,” Luxia said.

“Oh, well…” Lance looked at Keith out of the corner of his eye before kicking the ball to him. “We had a bad experience the last time. Quit for a while.”

“We miss you,” Swirn said. “You should come to at least one more. Stay away from the drunkards and you’ll be fine! Plus, we got a new strain we’re saving for after the first game. It’s called Bakku.”

Lance looked uneasy. “We’ll go if we win the first game of the season.” Keith knew he was thinking about Pidge and their promise to never go to a party again.

“Our first game is against Olkarion,” Luxia said flatly. “We won’t win.”

“We probably won’t win against Naxzela or Taujeer, either,” Swirn said, kicking the ball back to Lance.

“And forget about Galra,” Luxia snorted. 

“If we win against Galra, I’ll go to as many damn parties as you want me to,” Lance said.

“Guess you’re going to a lot of parties, then,” Keith noted.

Lance smiled at him, and Keith felt his heart burst. “How unusually optimistic.”

Iverson stormed over. “I know you all think you’re hot shit because you’re seniors, but you’re easily the laziest bunch here. Do something other than chat and stand in a circle, kicking the ball.” He turned to Lance and glared down at him. Iverson was even taller than Shiro; Keith didn’t blame Lance for taking a step back. “Don’t make me regret appointing you as captain, McClain.”

Lance didn’t say anything. Keith felt his anger getting the best of him. “You can’t talk to students like that.”

“You’re on thin ice, too, Kogane!” Iverson whirled on him. “I didn’t want you on this team in the first place! You should’ve been expelled freshmen year! You were nothing then, and you’re nothing now!”

“Watch it before I take your other eye out!”

The silence was deafening. 

Keith hadn’t said that. He stared at Lance, who looked shocked, like he didn’t quite believe he’d said it, either. But Keith couldn’t believe Iverson- a teacher- had said  _ that _ , either.  _ Nothing then and nothing now.  _ Iverson’s face turned an angry purple. 

Luxia and Swirn were too shocked to even laugh. No one was still playing soccer. They were staring, waiting for Iverson’s response.

“McClain. Kogane. Fifteen laps. You have one hour. Detention for the next week. If you do anything-  _ anything- _ else that so much as makes me itch, you’re both off the team. So  _ don’t _ fuck it up for each other.”

He said it so calmly, it convinced Keith he was a psychopath. 

Keith and Lance jogged just fast enough that Iverson couldn’t get mad at them, but not fast enough to actually exert themselves. “Christ,” Keith huffed. “Really starting to hate that guy.”

Lance’s face was scrunched. “I can’t believe he fucking said that to you. I really wanted to punch him.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. You probably would’ve gotten expelled. You don’t have any dead parents to blame it on, yeah? And you’re not 14.”

“I guess,” Lance said, glancing over at where people were playing again. “Jesus. I hate him. He really hits your insecurities and he’s been doing that to me for  _ years _ .”

“Wow,” Keith said. “Now I’m  _ really _ starting to hate him.”

Lance snorted. “Yeah, and you haven’t talked to him in years. Should’ve seen him last year when we didn’t even have a JV team cause we needed everyone on varsity.”

“Is our first game next Saturday?”

“No,  _ next _ next Saturday,” Lance said between breaths. “Next Saturday is the 31st. Next-next Saturday is the 7th.”

“Oh, right, got it,” Keith muttered, nodding.

Almost an hour later, they finished their 15 laps. Iverson gave Lance a list and said, “These are the people who made it. Go ahead and read it out while I pack up equipment.” 

“You aren’t gonna post it on the bulletin board?” Lance asked.

Iverson turned and glared at the group of underclassmen. “No. Every year, some kid who didn’t make it either comes to the practice anyway and insists they did make it, or they come into my office and bother me.”

Lance frowned and looked at the sheet of paper. “Uh, okay. Well, the first six are obvious, it’s the seniors, then there’s Florona…”

Lance read the list out loud. Some kids looked disappointed that they didn’t make varsity, but Keith overheard one girl say, “Well, at least I’ll get more play time on JV.”

Lance rolled up the paper and kept making announcements. “We have joint practices since there’s not that many of us. Practices are after school until 4 except on Fridays. Varsity- our first game is in two weeks, Saturday at 4. JV- your games are Fridays at 5. Questions?”

“When do we get our jerseys?” The question came from a sophomore Keith barely recognized.

“Oh, good question. Not sure, but seniors pick their numbers first, then recurring juniors, then juniors, and so on. If I had to guess, I’d say Monday or Tuesday.”

Keith felt like a dork, but he was practically fawning Lance. He was sweating  _ just _ a little bit.

“Sound good to everyone?” When no one responded, Lance clapped his hands. “All righty! Tryouts are over! Thank you to everyone who came, see you all Monday!” He walked towards the edge of the field to get his bag.

Keith checked his phone and groaned. “It’s 12:14. That’s too long.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “We’re going, we’re going!” They walked to the parking lot and Lance unlocked his car. 

Keith carefully got in, frowning. “Fuck. I wish I wasn’t so sweaty.”

“I would say don’t worry about it, but I have a  _ really _ nice car,” Lance said teasingly. He turned the corner to start going back to Keith’s house, but then his head snapped towards the shopping center by AHS. “Do you want any food?”

Despite the fact that Keith didn’t like eating with people, he said, “You don’t even have to ask. But I don’t have my wallet.”

“I have mine,” Lance said. “What do you want?”

They ended up getting McChickens and a large fries. 

Lance pulled into the driveway of Keith’s house and parked. “Bye, Keith!”

“Bye, Lance,” Keith said. “Thanks for the ride. And food.”

Lance waited until Keith was inside the house to drive away. Keith watched him through the window. 

He stood there for a moment, realizing just how much he’d started to like Lance, and decided to go do Chem homework instead of freaking out about it. 


	12. The Mighty Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mighty Fall by Fall Out Boy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Njx-TfjNekA
> 
> my blood headcanons

“Frankly, it’s homophobia,” Pidge said. 

“I heard you the first six times you bitched about it,” Keith said. 

“Do you think I could sue the school for transphobia?”

“I think you’d have to go for the whole county, since everyone has school today.” Keith tightened his backpack straps and double-checked that his bike was parked correctly. 

“I mean, Presidents’ Day, sure. Get a day off. Why not my  _ birthday _ ?” She huffed and unbuckled her helmet. “Also, can you find some other helmet for Lance? I’m tired of it disappearing out of my locker because you want to impress your crush.”

“I still can’t believe you’re turning 16.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been acting the same age since I was 12.”

“You should be a sophomore,” Keith said.

“Too bad I skipped kindergarten. Some kids are just too smart, I guess.” Pidge shrugged and smiled a little lopsided. “How’s practice been?”

“Sweaty,” Keith said, and he sighed. “God, Pidge. This is so  _ tough _ .”

“You’ll either get over it or find out he likes you back,” Pidge said. “Come on. You have to open the doors for me today.”

Keith rolled his eyes and smiled, pulling the door wide open. “Your Majesty.” 

She curtsied dramatically and practically  _ giggled, _ saying, “Oh, you’re too kind.”

Keith snorted and walked next to her. “We’re late. I don’t think your first period teacher will give you a tardy excused just because it’s your birthday.”

“Probably not,” Pidge admitted, “but I’ll just tell him I don’t care anyway.”

“Any plans for after school?”

“Mom, Dad, Matt, and I are going to Outback for dinner. And Hunk said he was bringing me lunch, so I’m excited for that. All  _ you _ did was drive me to school.”

“Drive you to school… every single day since I’ve had my license, yeah,” Keith retorted. “Go to  _ class _ , gremlin.”

The bell rang and Pidge said, “Well, now you’re late, too.”

_________________________________________

  
Hunk had brought Pidge peanut butter cheesecake and Lance sang happy birthday, obnoxiously, at the top of his lungs. Pidge was pink, but Keith knew she was enjoying it.

“So, sweet sixteen and never been kissed?” Lance asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Pidge rolled her eyes. “You know I don’t plan on it, either. Tongues are  _ so _ nasty.” She took a bite of cheesecake. “Miss me with that shit.”

Keith laughed. Hunk pulled out his laptop and set it on the table. “By the way, guys, I got the blood drive! It’s gonna be on September 27th next year. You have to be sixteen years old to donate, which we can all do!”

“Oh, fun,” Pidge said. “I don’t know what my blood type is, though.”

“No worries,” Hunk said, waving his hand. “Red Cross will test it when you donate. And you’ll be a senior next year, so you have no excuses for not doing it.”

“I’m O negative,” Lance said proudly. “Universal donor.”

“Me, too,” Hunk said.

“I’m O positive,” Keith said. “Almost a universal donor.”

“So what you’re saying is, my blood is better than your blood?” Lance asked, swiveling in his chair.

“Don’t get a big head, McClain-”

“You’re not allowed to argue on my birthday,” Pidge said loudly. “I’m not sorry, I make the rules today.”

Then Hunk and Pidge started talking about something on Hunk’s computer. Lance said, “Don’t forget that the game this Saturday! It’s at 4. I can drive you there.”

“You have to. Remember? That was a part of me joining the team,” Keith reminded him. “No getting out of that.”

“Yeah, but it’s supposed to rain. I hope the field’s not too soggy,” Lance sighed. “First game. Not a good omen.”

“At least it’s a bad omen for Olkarian, too,” Keith said, suppressing the urge to make fun of Lance for  _ omens _ .

“We’ll lose, but it’ll be fun,” Lance said, shrugging. “And we have that wonderful party to go to after. Funny how one always seems to be going on.”

The bell rang, and Lance continued talking to Keith as he walked to fifth period. Lance turned the corner quickly and bumped into someone, who dropped their things. “Oh, shit, sorry-”

His voice stopped when he stood up, textbook in hands, and he stared at Nyma.

She took it back and put it it on top of her binder. “My fault,” she said nervously. She was walking with Plaxum.

“Hey, Nyma,” Lance said. Keith tried to read his face, but he looked more shocked than anything.  _ What if he starts liking her all over again? _

“Hey, Lance,” Nyma said, and she smiled lightly, like she wanted to be friendly but didn’t know how. “I’ve, uh- I’ve gotta go.”

“See you,” Lance said, and Nyma walked past him with Plaxum, who pulled her blue hat tighter over her ears. 

Lance stood for a moment before looking at Keith. “That was awkward, wasn’t it?”

“It wasn’t- it wasn’t good,” Keith said. “Are you okay?”

Lance pursed his lips for a moment, and then nodded. “Yeah. I think I am, actually.” He made eye contact and smiled. “Ready for fifth?”

“You know it,” Keith said sarcastically. His heart fluttered knowing that Lance was being sincere when he said he was okay.

_______________________________________

  
Lance stared at the clouds. “I think it’s gonna rain.”

“It’s not scheduled to rain for like, another two hours,” Keith said. “The game will be fine. C’mon, you have to pep talk.”

“Pep talks. Right.” Lance smoothed out his jersey- number 1. Keith glanced down to make sure his jersey was on the right way, just because of a split second moment of anxiety. He was number 4. 

Lance walked ten feet to where the rest of the team was. “All right, everyone. Time to play! Listen, I was really apprehensive about this team at first, but these last two weeks of practice have given me some actual hope for this team’s record. So, let’s get out there and do the best we can.”

“Yeah!” Luxia clapped loudly. “That’s my favorite team captain!”

Lance did an exaggerated, bashful wave. “Oh, Luxia, you flatter me.”

Iverson blew his whistle. “Get on the field, people! Luxia, Swirn, you still owe me detentions!”

“Got it,” Swirn said. Some of the kids went and sat down on the bench with their water bottles. Lance, Keith, Florona, Olia, and a few others went on the field. 

Lance grinned. “Hey, Ryner. How’ve you been?”

“Ever since that other jackass got kicked from the team? Better than ever, McClain,” she said, grinning back. “Ready to get your ass kicked?”

“You’re underestimating my 14-year-olds,” Lance said. 

Lance played a pretty good midfielder. Te’Osh was on defense with one of the sophomores. Keith was on offense with Florona, who got  _ really _ into it and seemed to flow through the movements of offense with ease. 

By halftime, Okarian was beating them 4-3. Lance was ecstatic. “We’re doing  _ so _ much better than I expected to,” he whispered to Keith, leaning closer on the bench.

At that moment, Keith felt a  _ plink _ on his nose. He flinched and went cross-eyed for a second, wiping it off. 

Lance laughed. “Awe, that was cute.” Then he looked away, towards Iverson.

Keith, who was turning pink, opened his mouth to say something stupid, but Iverson blew his whistle and signaled that halftime was over. Keith was glad it was chilly. He could blame the redness now spreading over his nose, cheeks, and ears on the nip in the air.

“Do you think we can actually beat them?” Keith asked. He and Lance were staying on the bench for 15 minutes.

“I think that if we’re lucky, we could tie the game,” Lance said. “Come on, help me cheer. Luxia and Swirn are  _ amazing _ when they actually get their shit together.”

Keith had to admit, they impressed him. Olia was on offense with Florona, and they scored two goals. Luxia and Swirn were midfielders. It was obvious they had played together for years, at least. The ball moved so easily from one to the other like they could read each other’s minds.

When he and Lance were back on, it was raining lightly, but steadily getting heavier. People on the bench were flipping the hoods up on their windbreakers. 

One minute to the end of the game, Keith was continually wiping his bangs out of his face. They were tied, exactly like Lance had hoped, best case scenario.

Lance shouted, “Keith!” and he kicked the ball.

Adrenaline coursed through Keith’s veins. He started dribbling towards the goal, but there were two people in between him and the goalie. He passed quickly to Olia, who dodged one person and passed back to Keith when he ran past the two defenders.

The rain was actually annoying, now. It all happened in less than ten seconds, but it felt like much longer to him. He slipped right as he kicked the ball. He fell right on his ass. When he propped himself up on his elbows, he didn’t know if the ball had gone in the goal or not. 

Lance was whooping and he ran over to Keith, offering his hand. Keith smiled sheepishly and took his hand. 

“You scored!” Lance said excitedly. “We basically won!”

With twenty seconds left on the clock, the game ended and Keith felt elated, even though he had mud all over his shorts and up the side of his jersey. 

Keith looked at Lance and wiped his bangs out of his face with his clean hand. Just as earnest, he said, “It’s because  _ you _ pulled this team together, you know.”

Lance stared at Keith, lips barely parted. 

“Lance?” Keith started to feel self-conscious. “I know I probably smell, I should really take a shower in the locker room-”

“No!” Lance blurted. “I mean, no, that’s not- never mind. Uh, yeah. Go shower.” He put on a smirk. “You’re not getting in my car covered in mud.”

Then he cleared his throat awkwardly. Keith nodded slowly. “Um. Okay, then. I’ll just go… do that.”

He was glad he’d brought a change of clothes in his gym bag. He’d done it because he didn’t want to go anywhere in a sweaty jersey, but a muddy jersey worked fine, too. He tried to ignore how queasy Lance had just made him- did he do something wrong?

After rinsing off in the shower for five minutes, he threw on a T-shirt and his sweatpants. When Lance came back, he’d changed. “Hey, Keith. Ready to go home?”

“It’s only 6:20,” Keith pointed out. “And we won. You have to smoke weed with me.”

“Actually, I just have to drive you to and from every game. It’s if  _ I _ won that we get stoned,” Lance reminded him. 

“Oh,” Keith said, frowning. 

“We can get stoned anyway,” Lance offered, teetering forward slightly. “I mean. If you want to.”

Keith scoffed. “Of course I want to.”

“Swirn said he wasn’t really feeling a party and Luxia said she just wanted to smoke on her porch. Florona is driving them. You wanna join them?”

“Why not?” Keith asked, shrugging. “Sounds fun.”

“I’ll let them know. I’ll drive us over.” Lance slung his gym bag over his shoulder and walked out of the locker room. Keith pulled on his socks and stretched before following him. 

Lance was talking to the other three in the school parking lot. Keith smiled at them. “Hey, guys. Not gonna lie, I wasn’t feeling a big party, either.”

“Sometimes they just suck,” Swirn said. 

Florona spun the car keys around her finger. “See you guys at Luxia’s!”

“See you!” Lance called. 

When they were in the car, it occurred to Keith that they had no way back. “Is Hunk getting us from Luxia’s?”

“No,” Lance said, looking confused. He turned on the ignition. “I’m just gonna drive us.”

“You’ll be stoned.”

“No, I’ll just go sober,” Lance said, waving a hand dismissively. 

“But we were gonna get stoned  _ together _ ,” Keith insisted. “That’s the bet, Lance.”

“Well, how else are we gonna get home?”

Keith took a moment to think. “Uber.”

“I’d still be leaving my car at Luxia’s,” Lance replied.

“Well, at least save a joint or something so you can get high when we’re at my house,” Keith said.

“I’d still have to get home!”

“Just spend the night,” Keith said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He felt immediate regret- who just  _ said _ that to their crush? Fortunately, Lance didn’t seem to think much of it.

“Um. All right,” he said. “But text Churro first. I don’t want a surprise sleepover on my hands.”

Keith pulled out his phone.  _ Can Lance spend the night? _

A moment later:  _ Sleepovers already? _ With a little smiling emoji.

Keith groaned. Lance glanced over. “Did he say no?”

“No, he just said- never mind. It doesn’t matter. He’s just annoying,” Keith said, typing out a quick reply.  _ Takashit. _

Lance laughed. “Brothers are like that, from what I gather,” he said. “Luxia’s house isn’t actually that far from the school, so we’ll be there in like, three minutes.”

“Got it,” Keith said. His phone buzzed. Shiro just sent  _ another _ smiling emoji. Keith didn’t even dignify it with an answer, choosing to stifle laughter instead.

A couple minutes later, Lance knocked on Luxia’s door. The rain had let up considerably, so it was like it was before the game. Florona answered, holding a soda can. “Oh, hey, guys,” she said. “Her parents are out, so there’s no need for awkward conversations.”

She led them to the back porch, where Swirn and Luxia were already bubbling with laughter. Keith put a 10 down on the table, but Swirn shook his head. “We’re friends now, Keith,” he said. “Friends smoke up friends.”

“You guys have to try this shit,” Luxia said. Her smile was so wide Keith was almost scared her face would break. 

“Bakku?” Lance asked. “Yeah, I have to drive him home.”

“Shit,” Luxia said. “We have so much of it. We’ll give you a gram, but if you want two, it’s ten dollars. That’s a buy one, get one free deal.”

“Let me buy it!” Keith said. “I have to get Lance high.”

“Whatever you smoke here is free, and you can get these two grams,” Swirn said. He pulled out a little baggie. “Here you are, good sir.” Then he lost it laughing.

Keith slid the ten over, glad he brought his wallet. “Now let me try this bong that obviously has the two of you fucked up.”

“Go ahead,” Swirn said. “The ice hasn’t even melted.”

They hadn’t been exaggerating- the first hit had Keith reeling from the sudden harshness, and he choked. 

“Fuck! I just swallowed bong water!” Keith complained, wiping his mouth. He looked at Lance. “Christ.”

“Yeah, Christ, all right,” Lance said. He propped his legs up on the table. Keith shook his head and flicked on the lighter, taking another hit. “You wanna slow down there, Samurai?”

“Uh, no,” Keith said. He smiled at Lance again, completely unabashed.  _ Gas courage, _ he thought to himself before laughing. 

Lance rolled his eyes and his lips quirked. “You good there, Keith?”

“Fine,” Keith said. He covered his mouth with his free hand.

He was in the middle of taking his third (“And final,” Lance warned him) hit when Florona came outside and said, “I have shot glasses!”

Luxia sat up. “Fuck yeah,” she said. “Pour that motherfucking  _ tequila _ , babe!”

Swirn was dancing in his chair while Florona passed out lime wedges. She offered one to Lance, who shook his head. 

Keith licked the back of his hand and sprinkled the salt on it. He held the lime wedge with his salt hand and the shot glass with the other. Florona picked up her glass and said, “1, 2, 3!”

He licked the back of his hand, swallowed the tequila, and bit down on his lime. Swirn gagged. “God,” he moaned. “This is why I like weed so much better.”

“Bitch,” Luxia said. “I wanna do another.”

“Count me out,” Swirn groaned again, reaching for the bong. He set it in his lap and started taking another hit.

Florona poured the three of them another shot. Lance said, “Keith, are you gonna take any more shots after this?”

Keith tilted his head for a moment while he put more salt on the back of his hand. “I don’t think so,” he said decidedly. “I kinda wanna go home to  _ my _ porch.”

Florona counted down from three that time. Keith’s throat burned more than he expected it to, and he was sufficiently high and tipsy. “Don’t forget the 2 grams,” Keith said, but it sounded bubbly to him, like he hadn’t actually said it. “The weed,” he said again. 

“I got it,” Lance responded, reaching over to the table. “Let’s go. See you, guys!”

Keith stumbled his way into the house and stared at the stairs leading to the front door. He turned and wrapped his arms around Lance before it occurred to him that maybe he shouldn’t have done that. “Fuck,” he muttered.

“Are you good?” Lance asked. He hesitantly put his arms around Keith, too. “We can go down slowly, you know. You don’t have to do everything fast and hard.”

“Okay,” Keith agreed. He started with one step at a time. On the second to last step, he stumbled. 

“Whoa,” Lance said, and he instinctively pulled on Keith’s shoulders so he didn’t fall off the stairs. “I’ve got you, buddy.”

Keith’s altered mind took the opportunity to turn and look straight into Lance’s eyes and smile. He stood there, not blinking, for a few seconds. Lance cleared his throat. “Keith?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said excitedly, and he went down the last step. “Now we just have to go to my house! And you have to use my new bong so I’m not the only one fucked up!”

“You got it,” Lance agreed, holding the door open for Keith.

“Then I have to go to sleep because I’m actually really tired,” Keith said. “Did you see me make that goal today? That was because you passed me the ball!”

Keith had no idea why he was babbling, but he mind was working too slowly to stop himself.

“I did see it. I passed you the ball, remember, dumbass?” Lance climbed into the car with Keith. “Seat belt.”

He started backing out of the driveway when Keith got the seat belt buckled after the fifth attempt. “But then I fell in the mud. That was embarrassing. I looked really stupid.”

“You didn’t look stupid, it was kinda-” Lance cut himself off. He flipped on his turning signal and said, “You looked fine.”

Keith beamed. “Really? I was kinda nervous the whole game because what if I messed up really badly? Like what if I hadn’t made that last shot?”

“We would’ve tied,” Lance said. “Or gotten another play because there was still time in the game.”

“Yeah, but like, what if we didn’t? Oh, man, and then you were a midfielder and you were so good! You kept making all these passes and dribbling super good. You’re really good at soccer, Lance.”

“Thanks, Keith,” Lance said. His voice was almost inaudible.

Keith rambled on anyway. He wasn’t even sure what words were coming out of his mouth until they were already out there. “Shiro’s home right now and he has a boyfriend, I think, but he won’t tell me his name. He’s in his Physics class. I think he really likes him but he hasn’t said they’re serious, so I don’t know. It makes me kinda jealous.”

“Why?” Lance asked. The car came to a light brake in front of a red light.

“Cause I want that, too.” Keith’s consciousness finally caught up with his mouth, and it was screaming,  _ SHUT UP,  IDIOT! _

Lance started drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Don’t worry, Keith, you’ll get your ‘happily ever after’ soon. I’m sure of it.”

Keith slunk in his seat.  _ Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up shut up shutupshutup- _

“How soon?” He tried to keep the hope out of his voice. 

Lance parked the car in Keith’s driveway. “I don’t know.” He hopped out of the car and Keith let him help him out. Keith was in a familiar position- drunk, high out of his mind, and his arm around Lance’s shoulders. “Can you get your keys out?”

“Yeah,” Keith mumbled. With his free hand, he rummaged through his pockets until he found them. “Ta-dah!”

Lance snorted. “Good job.”

They walked through the door and Shiro was laying on the couch with a million papers in his lap. “Oh, hey, Lance,” Shiro said.

“Hey, uh- Shiro.” 

Keith burst into laughter. “His name is Churro,” he said loudly. “You know that.” He straightened up. “I have to find my bong.”

“Why are you getting out your bong?” Shiro asked. “It came two days ago.”

“Because Lance’s sober,” Keith said. “That’s not the deal.”

Lance shrugged sheepishly. “If we lost, then we have to get stoned together, and we won, but Keith wanted to do it anyway.” 

Keith walked into the kitchen and opened the pantry. He pulled out the bong with duct tape along the side that said ‘KEITH’ in sharpie. He walked back out to the living room and said, “This is Puff the Magic Dragon.”

“You named your bong after a kids’ TV show?” Lance asked, eyebrow raised.

“My bong is better,” Shiro said. “I named it the Grinch.”

“Such a shit name,” Keith muttered.

“I  _ do _ like Puff the Magic Dragon,” Lance admitted.

“Not my fault you guys don’t know a good bong name when you’re told one,” Shiro said, going back to his papers.

“Come outside, now,” Keith said, and he slid open the back door. “I wanna smoke again.” Lance waved to Shiro and followed Keith outside. It was slightly colder than earlier, but that was nothing a lighter couldn’t fix.

Lance took four hits before sitting down for a break. “I don’t want to do too much, too fast,” he explained. “Man, Swirn wasn’t fucking around when he said this shit was strong.”

“Yeah,” Keith said, somewhat blissed out. “Nice. Nice stuff. Feelings.” He took one hit.

Lance took a fifth hit and then packed up the weed. He and Keith sat in the chair side by side and stared at the sky for a while.

“Next time, I’ll be sober,” Keith said. “You shouldn’t… you shouldn’t always be the driver.”

“I don’t mind,” Lance murmured. “I like driving. Clears my head.”

“You did mind,” Keith persisted. “Remember? We rock, paper, scissored.”

“I was just being a shithead because I didn’t want to drive that  _ one _ time,” Lance said. “But if you want to drive next time, go for it. You just can’t drive  _ my _ car. That’s for super best friends.”

“Like Hunk?”

“On the occasion.”

“I thought we were super best friends,” Keith muttered. His mind felt like sludge, but good sludge. “Aren’t we?”

Lance didn’t answer for a moment. “Super best friends?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess,” Lance said. “I mean- jeez, that came off really bad.”

Keith ignored the feeling of pain in his chest.  _ I guess _ . Not really a morale booster. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Lance insisted. “My head- the weed is getting to me. Jesus, they weren’t kidding- but we  _ are _ super best friends. I would’ve hated myself if I said that six months ago, but I definitely enjoy you being a part of my life.”

Keith allowed himself a small smile. “Me, too,” he said, and they went back to watching the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh also i called myself and every other fic writer out with the whole "funny how there's always a party going on" thing


	13. King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King by Lauren Aquilina: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sZeVx_9au5g

They ended up sleeping in the living room. At one point, Lance woke Keith up, and said, “It’s too cold. Come on, Sleeping Beauty.” Keith’s brain was still struggling to remember how speech worked, so he just nodded dumbly and followed him inside. Lance crashed on the couch and Keith curled up on the recliner.

Shiro came downstairs the next morning and started making coffee. Keith woke up because of their loud, shitty coffee maker. “Seriously, Shiro?” He groaned. 

“I have places to be,” Shiro said, “namely, a movie date.”

“It’s like, 7 in the morning.”

“It’s almost 10.”

Keith looked at the clock on the oven. “Oh, shit. So, a date with Physics Boy?”

“Who else?” Shiro asked, tapping the coffee maker, as if that would make it go any faster. “I’m thinking about going like, actually official, too.”

“Weren’t you already?”

“He’s surprisingly reluctant,” Shiro said. “Keeps spouting statistics of how long relationships last, how many relationships fail, how 40 to 50 percent of marriages end. But I’ve got a good feeling about today. And like I said, I didn’t want to tell you all about him until I was sure it was serious. So we're having lunch and a movie.”

“Spouting statistics?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said. “I thought he was really irritating at first, to be honest, but he’s grown on me.”

“Oh yeah, I feel you on that,” Keith said. 

“I know you do,” Shiro said, just a bit too cheeky for Keith’s liking. “I was still down here when you two came in. I was trying to find our Mac n’ Cheese, but it’s all gone.”

“Oh,” Keith said. “Hm. Weird. I don’t know what to tell you. Try buying more.”

“Shithead,” Shiro muttered. He poured out his coffee into a cup and put the top on as his phone buzzed. “Okay, he’s outside, so I’m off. Try not to fuck up the house while I’m gone.”

Keith made a face at his back and opened the fridge, digging through everything in search of literally  _ anything _ to eat. His head hurt, he was thirsty, and he wanted to eat something.

He walked into the living room, where Lance was still passed out. “Lance!” He tapped his shoulder. “Oh my fucking god.” He started shaking Lance’s shoulder.

Lance groaned and rolled over. “Ow, what the fuck? What? It’s so fucking early.”

“No, it’s not. Come on, we’re going to Waffle House.”

“Ugh.”

“I’m driving. Get up,” Keith said. “Come on. I want waffles. Lance,” he said imploringly. “Please. Get. Up.”

Muffled, Lance said, “If you pay.” He sat up on the couch and looked around blearily. His bed head looked really fucking cute. He coughed. “My morning breath is really gross.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Come on, we have to go to Waffle House.”

“Okay,” Lance said. He stood up and stretched. “All right. Let’s go. I’ll wake up more in the car.”

Keith didn’t like driving the car that much, but Lance looked ready to sleep again, and he really didn’t trust him to stay on the bike. Besides, it was just easier. He couldn’t stop dancing in the car seat. Lance smiled. “You look like Swirn did last night.”

“Swirn was baked,” Keith said, laughing. “God, I am so fucking excited for this Waffle House.”

“Waffle House is one of my favorite places to go after getting super drunk,” Lance said. “I mean, I wasn’t extremely high last night. Maybe a 7 or an 8 out of 10. But these waffles are so delicious.”

“I just really want a big waffle and a hash brown,” Keith said.

“I put chocolate chips on my waffle,” Lance said. “And I’m gonna steal some of your hash brown.” He stretched in his seat. “God, is traffic always this bad on a Sunday?”

“I don’t know, I’m not usually out driving on Sundays,” Keith said. “God, I just want some fucking  _ food _ .”

“Me, too,” Lance said, sighing. “God. I still hate you for waking me up, but I’m glad it was at least for Waffle House.”

“You know what else is good?” Keith asked, braking lightly. “Fucking… Denny’s.”

“I only ever go to Denny’s after 12am,” Lance admitted. “Usually with Hunk, sometimes with Allura when she convinces me to buy her pancakes.”

“I like Allura,” Keith said. “I kinda want to get to know her better.”

“Just come to another fun family party,” Lance said. “She usually shows up, even if it’s just for a little.”

“I can’t wait to win our next game,” Keith said. “I’ll convince Shiro to buy tequila and we can do our own lime and salt shots.”

“Or fireball,” Lance said. “Or just pot. Maybe vodka and lemonade. Jell-O shots!”

“Should I take notes?” Keith pulled into the parking spot closest to the Waffle House entrance.

“Hey, these are good drinks!”

“I don’t doubt it,” Keith answered. “Come on, let’s go get waffles.”

Lance got chocolate chips on his waffle and Keith ordered a hash brown, but he split it with Lance because “Keith, c’mon, I didn’t get one and you have a whole hash brown, just give me a  _ bite _ .”

After they ate and Lance drank more coffee than Keith thought one person could ever drink, Keith paid and they got back to the car. “That was fucking delicious. You should wake me up more often. Only if you’re gonna greet me with waffles, though,” Lance warned. 

Intrusive thoughts struck Keith and he had a very clear thought of him waking up Lance when they were married and living together with waffles. _ Not now, _ he thought.  _ I’m driving. _ “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Lance leaned back in his seat and started humming along to the music quietly playing from the radio. There were barely any clouds in the light blue sky, and Keith felt strangely at peace with the silence. Normally, he would’ve felt uncomfortable, maybe a little itchy. But he  _ didn’t _ .

“I love this song,” Lance said, leaning forward and turning the volume up a few ticks. Keith didn’t recognize it, but he liked the tune and the bass. He started tapping his fingers on the wheel. 

At a stoplight, Keith thought about what he’d do with the rest of his day. Maybe the gym? He should definitely work out after drinking. He tied his hair back in a ponytail and quickly put his hands back on the wheel. When he realized Lance had stopped humming, he glanced over. “What?”

Lance had been staring at him. Again. “Nothing,” he said, all to quickly. “I’ve just- I haven’t really seen your hair up.”

Keith frowned. “Oh. Is it… is it bad? Or weird?”

“No,” Lance said. “It’s just different. You know?  _ Good _ different,” he added quickly.

Keith turned slightly pink at the compliment, but forced himself not to overanalyze it. “Oh. Thanks?”

_ Now _ the silence was slightly awkward. The song changed and Lance said, “Damn, I love this one, too.” He started humming again, and Keith eased up.

“I have to work out today,” Keith said. 

“We could go to West Park,” Lance said, but then he glanced at Keith like he hadn’t quite meant to say that.

“Okay,” Keith agreed, ditching any and all plans to go to the gym. “Just let me change into…” He paused and looked at his shirt. “Actually, I’m pretty comfortable. You wanna go right now?”

“Can’t we just lounge around for a little?”

“Nope,” Keith said, grinning, switching lanes to head towards the park. “No time like the present! You gotta stay in shape! How else are we gonna have a fantastic soccer season?”

“We probably aren’t gonna win any more games. That was serious luck. Except for your winning goal, of course,” Lance said, smirking at Keith.

“I’m making you jog no matter how much you suck up,” Keith said. 

“That was genuine!” Lance squeaked, throwing up his arms as wide as he could in the tiny car.

Eight minutes later, Keith parked and they were walking towards the track at West Park. “Three laps at least,” he said to Lance, holding up his fingers.

“Let’s make that two,” Lance said. 

“Before you know it, you’re gonna talk me down to one. Come on, Sharpshooter, three laps!” Keith tied back his hair and started jogging down the path, turning to look at Lance. “I’ll race you!”

“Okay,  _ now _ you’re on!” Lance sprinted 15 yards to Keith and then slowed down to match pace with him.

Halfway through the third lap, Keith’s throat burned and the back of his neck was sticky with sweat. Lance sped up, and Keith tried to catch up, but Lance beat him to their starting spot.

Hands on his knees, he said, “Fuck.” He straightened out and cracked his back.

“You look hot,” Lance said. 

“What?” Keith hoped he hadn’t noticed the voice crack. He also hoped he was already red-faced from running.

Lance’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second and then he said, “Like, you’re sweating. Do you have a water bottle?”

Keith tried not to read into the red on Lance’s cheeks- he’d just been running. It was hot. His friend mistook what he said as something romantic. He went and filled up his water bottle at the park fountain. Lance took a long drink and walked back with him to a bench, where they talked about miscellaneous things for 10 minutes. “It’s almost noon,” Lance said.

“Just after, actually,” Keith said. “Let’s go, Sharpshooter, I’m feeling a lazy Saturday.”

“We  _ just _ worked out.”

“We ran three laps. I know you don’t think that was a full workout.”

“Sure, sure. We leaving?” Lance asked. 

“Yeah,” Keith said, “I wanna watch Netflix. Let’s go. Oh, and your car is still at my house.”

“I know,” Lance said. “What, did you think I forgot where the light of my life is?”

“Isn’t Hunk the light of your life?”

Lance hummed. “Okay. Did you think I forgot where my second light of my… wait, that doesn’t sound right.”

Keith laughed. “I don’t know how you messed that up. Um, your second… brightest? Light of your life.”

Lance snorted. “Okay, I might have messed up, but at least I didn't sound  _ that _ stupid. Leave the English to me.”

“Hey!” Keith protested. “I was trying to help you!”

“And you failed,” Lance teased, grinning and leaning over the console. “Don’t worry, I won’t make fun of you for it. Too much.”

“I think we have different definitions of ‘too much,’” Keith said, keeping his eyes on the road. 

“But mine is the correct one. I’m too cute to be wrong, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Keith said, and three whole seconds later, he forced out an awkward laugh.  _ Please don’t read into it. _

Lance didn’t reply, he just started humming along to the radio again. Keith didn’t know if the silence was worse. He just started tapping his fingers on the wheel with the music.

Not for very long. “What are you doing?”

“Uh… tapping the wheel?”

“Like… to the music?”

“I guess,” Keith said uncertainly. “Um. Why?”

“You’re totally off,” Lance said, shaking his head theatrically. “You have  _ no _ rhythm, like, at all.” 

“It’s just tapping!”

“And it’s completely  _ wrong _ !”

Keith rolled his eyes and looked away, but he had a feeling Lance knew he was trying not to smile. “Sure. Whatever you believe, Lancey Lance.”

Lance just stuttered, and Keith looked at him, confused. Lance was  _ definitely  _ pink. “Don’t call me that when… as like… meanly!”

“Meanly,” Keith said. “Seriously? Don’t worry, Lancelot, you’re still cute.” He didn’t dare to make eye contact and he chuckled. Was that too far? He felt like that was too deep into flirtatious territory. 

Lance crossed his arms and sunk into his seat. “Shut up.”

_____________________________________________

  
Monday, during lunch, Pidge was talking to Keith about her newest techie project. Hunk came in and she talked to him, too, but Hunk was definitely more excited and engaged in the conversation than Keith.

“Is Lance here today?” Keith asked, aware how upset he sounded. “He wasn’t in Chem.”

“Yeah, I saw him go to the attendance office while I was walking here,” Pidge said. She was facing away from Hunk, and she made a face at Keith before smiling. “Why?”

“Just wondering what’s taking him so long,” Keith said, shrugging as nonchalantly as he could manage.

“He’ll be here soon,” Hunk said. “He’s probably getting work from the first four periods he missed.”

“Oh, yeah,” Keith said distractedly. “You’re probably right.”

Two minutes later, Lance came in, looking distraught. “Keith, I need your help with this Chem stuff.”

“Where were you?”

“I slept in,” Lance groaned. Keith snickered. “Shut up! It’s Monday, cut me some slack!  _ Please _ help me.”

“Yeah, okay. Man, I can’t believe the AP tests are coming up in less than a month,” Keith said.

Lance looked like someone had shocked him. “I completely forgot about that. When’s the Chem test?”

“May 7th,” Keith said, leaning back in his chair. “At 8am. I’m like, 90% sure it’s the first one. Don’t worry, Ms. Stoll set up an entire week for review right before the test. She was telling us about it today.”

“Calc is the 15th,” Pidge said. “And Physics is May 8th. Stat is the 17th. In the afternoon, thank  _ god _ .”

“God, there’s so much to review,” Keith said. 

Lance looked  _ really _ freaked out. “I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Hey,” Keith said, leaning forward again. “Relax. You’re one of the smartest people I know. And you’re going to review a whole bunch. You’ll be fine.”

Lance still looked anxious, but he smiled. “As long as you study with me.” Then he turned around and started digging through his backpack.

Keith stared at his back and almost choked. “Uh, yeah. Of course.”

He looked back at Hunk and Pidge, who were staring. “What?” he asked defensively. 

“Nothing,” Hunk said, putting up his hands. “Just weird seeing you guys as such good friends.”

“Character development,” Lance said. He glared at Hunk when he thought Keith wasn’t looking, but Keith didn’t really know what to make of it.

Keith scooted his chair closer to Lance. “So what’re you confused about for Chem?”

“Just this stuff,” Lance said, pointing to the papers he’d gotten from Ms. Stoll. Keith spent the whole period going over it with him, ignoring Pidge’s pointed looks. He didn’t mind helping Lance. He smelled nice, even though he was wearing a wrinkly blue hoodie and gray shorts.

He looked up once when Lance hadn’t said anything. “Are you all right?”

“Y-yeah,” Lance said. He looked back at the paper, eyebrows furrowed. “Just repeat that? Please?”

Keith cleared his throat and nodded, willing away the red flush creeping up his neck. 

When the lunch bell rang, Lance said thanks and practically bolted from the room. Keith was starting to think he’d done something wrong. Hunk left as quickly as Lance, saying, “Hey, Lance wait up!”

With everyone else in the computer lab gone, Pidge said, “Have you ever been more overwhelmingly  _ obvious _ ?”

“I thought I did a pretty good job,” Keith said. 

“You didn’t.”

“Do you think that’s why Lance was so uncomfortable?” He looked at Pidge with wide eyes. “Oh my god. Pidge, is that why he’s so uncomfortable now?”

Pidge pushed her glasses up her nose and looked straight ahead. “I don’t know. Come on, we’re going to be late for fifth.”

______________________________________

  
Keith felt extremely jittery by seventh period. Did Pidge think Lance had caught on?

“Hey,” Lance said, sitting down at his desk.

“Oh, hey,” Keith said. He cleared his throat. “Long time no see.”

He stumbled his way through that conversation, acutely aware of everything he said and everything Lance said. He did seem a little bit nervous. Maybe it was still just the exams on his mind. 

“So,” Lance said. He sounded like he was choking on his own words. “How’s life?”

“Um. Good?” Keith raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, good. How’s Shiro?”

“He’s… good.”

“So, how’s the rest of your life?” Lance asked as casually as possible. He took out his notebook and dated the margin.

“Fine?”

“I meant like,” Lance said, moving his hands and looking all around the ceiling, “in the  _ romance _ department.”

_ Oh my god. He fucking knows. _ Lance looked at his expression and stumbled over his words. “I mean, like, you never mention anyone, you know, and you haven’t the whole time we’ve been friends, and I was just… asking.”

He felt his throat close up. He’d fucked it up. Was he blushing? “Oh. The same as always, Lance. It doesn’t exist.”

His voice almost cracked. 

_ You fucked up. He knows. He doesn’t want to be your friend anymore. You freaked him out. _

_ What if he still cares about Nyma? _

“Oh,” Lance said, nodding. 

Keith almost broke his pencil with how tightly he was holding it.  _ Don’t blush. Don’t humiliate yourself even more. _

Because in what fucking reality would Lance  _ ever _ like him back?

_ You ruined a perfectly good friendship, Keith, _ he thought to himself. He skipped soccer practice. The entire ride home with Pidge was awkwardly stilted, like she didn’t know what to say. When they stopped in front of her house, and she hopped off, she turned and looked at him hesitantly. “Thanks… for the ride home.”

“No problem,” he said, and he waited until she was inside to go home.

He smoked a single joint when he got home, so he wasn’t quite as anxious about the ruined friendship as he should’ve been. He felt bad, of course. But not anxious.

Then he got a text from Shiro.  _ Physics Boy is coming over with me. So just be prepared? _

Keith wanted to scream.

_ At least I’ll finally know who he is, _ Keith thought, his words somewhat… muddy. 

True to his word, the door unlocked fifteen minutes later. “Keith?” Shiro’s voice carried down the tiny hallway to the living room, where Keith had just now realized his weed bag was still out and smelled. And he still had three joints on the table. Shiro gave Keith a pointed look. Keith shrugged.

“Hey, Takashi,” Keith said. “Who’s your  _ friend _ ?”

His friend was shorter than Shiro was, and significantly less… beefy. “Hello,” he said, and Keith immediately wondered where he was from. 

“This is Slav,” Shiro said. Keith squinted at him. Was he  _ nervous _ ? He was wringing his hands and smiling, but he looked anxious. “Jesus Christ, Keith. I can’t believe you’re high.”

“I can,” Slav said. “The majority of Americans have smoked marijuana in their life. About 35 million smoke it regularly.”

Keith smiled and threw up a peace sign. “That’s me!” He tried to ignore his heartbeat, which was going faster despite being high. 

“I’m making pasta for dinner,” Shiro said. “Slav’s a vegetarian. Is pasta good for you, Keith?”

That was the exact moment Keith’s munchies kicked in. “Yeah. Anything’s good with me. I’m really hungry.”

“People experiencing the munchies are more likely to go to McDonald’s than anywhere else,” Slav said.

“Do you have a statistic for everything?”

Slav cracked a smile. “Ninety percent of things.”

Keith laughed once, tried to stop himself, and then started laughing even harder.  _ It’s not that funny, Keith. _

Shiro started the stove and talked to them from the kitchen. “So, Keith, how was your day?”

“Great,” Keith said, apparently too blandly, because Shiro stopped and narrowed his eyes at him.

“Was it?” He said, conversationally.

“Probably not,” Slav said, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling.

Keith lit a second blunt. “Nope. It wasn’t. But that’s all right. Tomorrow’s a new day, right, Takashi?”

“Yup,” Shiro said, but he didn’t sound too excited. He put a top on the pot and came out to the living room, sitting on the end of the couch opposite of Keith and close to Slav. “We can talk about our day instead, if you want.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Keith said. 

“Well, after I got out of work, Slav picked me up, and you know, of course he has to make sure the seat belts and airbags are good…”

Keith let Shiro talk about the movie they went to see ( _ Black Panther _ ) and even though his words faded into a blur, Keith could  _ see _ his brother relaxing and smiling with someone. It tugged at his heartstrings, but he was more upset with himself than jealous. Shiro deserved this- unconditional love, and happiness with someone he cared about.

After Shiro drained the pasta, Keith got a bowl and went upstairs, saying, “Night, guys,” figuring that they could use some alone time. Without Shiro’s younger brother.  _ Seems like you’re getting on everyone’s nerves lately. _

He ate his pasta and went to sleep.


	14. I Need To Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I Need To Know by Sleeping With Sirens: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XR4NBhHtEZA

Tuesday was somehow worse than Monday. 

Lance seemed to  _ want  _ to have a conversation with Keith, but he couldn’t make himself say things. He’d look at Keith, start to say something, then glance away with this  _ look _ on his face. Keith went to practice, but left early, telling Lance he had to help Shiro with something. Lance clearly didn’t buy it, but he said, “Well. See you tomorrow. Um. I guess.” 

By Wednesday, Keith was about to  _ lose _ it.

“Are you okay?” He asked during lunch, trying not to sound  _ too _ pissed. That would make it worse than it already was. Hunk and Pidge were sitting at the end of the table, effectively cutting themselves out of their conversation.

“Fine,” Lance said. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “Why do you ask? Do you think something’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong!” Keith said, putting his hands up. “I just… wanted to ask. You’ve been… weird.”

Lance didn’t say anything.  _ Now he knows you know he knows. Good fucking job, Keith. _ “Have I?” He asked, after what felt like several awkward seconds.

“A  _ bit _ , yeah,” Keith said, maybe more harshly than he intended. He looked away. “Never mind. Forget it.”

“I’m sorry,” Lance blurted.

“Can we just focus on the English and Chem stuff?” Keith asked. He felt miserable, and embarrassed, and wanted to curse himself for somehow being obvious. He  _ really _ hoped he wasn’t blushing. That would be the cherry on top of the shit cake.

Lance looked down. “Yeah. Um, the analysis for this text is supposed to be about the structure…”

Keith tried not to think about their crumbling friendship. He skipped practice again.

_______________________________________

 

 

  
Then it was Thursday and Keith was almost positive Lance had taken several hits from  _ something. _ LSD, perhaps. Acid.

“Well, hello there, Keith, light of my life, favorite person ever,” Lance said, swinging into his seat. “How are you? On this  _ beautiful _ Thursday?”

Keith must’ve taken too long to answer, because Lance leaned forward, gesturing with his hand. “Oh,” he said. “I mean. It’s been okay so far. Why are you… are you okay?”

“ _ Why _ are you asking me that?” Lance asked. Now he looked frustrated. “I’m- we’re- this is  _ good _ !”

“Is that what you call it?” Keith couldn’t help smiling. Then he forced it away.  _ Stop flirting.  _

Lance frowned, but then he plastered a grin on his face and pulled out his Chem notes. “Okay,” he said, way too cheerfully to be natural, “I’m thinking that before the game on Saturday, we can study for the Chem test. We can do it at my house, and Allura might come too because she’s in the Chem class as a freshmen at Garrison. Obviously not an AP class, just a normal class. That we take. Or we could just go to your house and then the game.”

“We’re doing that?”

“If you  _ want _ to,” Lance said quickly, looking suddenly alarmed.

“Wh-Of course I do!” Keith stuttered. He flexed his jaw. “I mean, we have to study. At some point. The tests are in like, three weeks.”

“We’re celebrating after the tests,” Lance said. “We deserve it.”

“‘We’ as in who?”

“You, me, Hunk, Pidge,” Lance said. “Shay, if she wants. Allura, if  _ she _ wants. Oh! We could go to Allura’s house, she’s got a pool.”

“I don’t know Allura that well,” Keith said nervously. He pretending to scratch his finger so he had something to do other than make eye contact with Lance. “I mean, I want to know her, but I don’t really know how.”

“Don’t worry,” Lance said, smiling. “I’ll make it a  _ personal _ mission to make you guys friends.”

Keith felt his hunched shoulders drop a little. Maybe Lance wasn’t completely weirded out.  _ Or he’s overcompensating and trying to act like you guys are okay, _ said a nasty voice in his head. “Yeah. We could. Um. Should we focus?”

Lance looked up towards the board, and his face dropped. “Oh. Yeah, I guess. If you want.”

Keith nodded and thought about the millions of things he  _ actually _ wanted.

____________________________________

  
At lunch, Lance seemed to refill with energy. He came after 30 minutes in a different class, so it had just been Pidge helping Keith with Calc while Hunk studied for his own AP tests.When he came in, Lance pulled out a deck of Uno cards and started shuffling. “Who wants to play?” He asked, grinning. 

“Me,” Pidge said, her face lighting up. She dropped her pencil.

“Me, too,” Hunk said, already putting his stuff away. “Keith?”

“Yeah, why not?” Keith shrugged and put his backpack under the table. He glanced at Lance, whose eyebrows were scrunched together, like he was confused.

Once they were dealt, Lance leaned over to Keith with a cocky grin and said, “I bet I can win this game really fast.”

“It’s turn-based,” Keith said dryly.

Lance closed his eyes, put his hand on his forehead, and sighed. Keith wondered if he’d done something wrong-  _ again, _ the voice in his head reminded him _ - _ but then Lance said, “Okay. I’m gonna win really fast. In like, five turns.”

On Lance’s fifth turn, Keith had a smug, triumphant smile. “So, Lance, you gonna pull an Uno out of your ass with those four cards?”

“I wasn’t going to do this, but being cute won’t save you from karma,” Lance said, and he put down a plus 4.

“Are you fucking  _ joking _ ?” Keith asked, staring, pretending he hadn’t heard Lance call him cute. “Pick it up. Don’t play that one.”

“I’m playing it. At the very least, I’m going to beat  _ you _ .”

“Keith, can you just pick up your fucking cards?” Pidge asked. She had two cards left. 

“Fine,” Keith said. He picked up a plus 4, and groaned, because he didn’t want to play that card on Hunk. Pidge played a reverse card, and Keith felt a wicked smile creep onto his face.

“I don’t like that face,” Lance said as Keith was putting down his card.

“What was that you were saying about not being saved from karma?” Keith asked innocently.

Pidge groaned and covered her face with her one card and her hands. “Lance! Fucking  _ go _ !”

Hunk, who also had only one card left, said, “Dude, cut your losses and hurry up. I’m gonna get second place.”

Lance spent about two full minutes looking over his cards, trying to guess which color Pidge had. He ended up putting down a yellow 7.

Pidge laughed and put down a green 7. “I win!”

“Fuck!” Lance sunk in his chair. Hunk played a green 4, called uno, and scooted his chair back. “Great. Now I’m getting third place.”

“Excuse me?” Keith asked, incredulous. “Definitely not.  _ I’m _ getting third.”

“Oh congratulations, Mr. Hot Shot,” Lance said. “You’re getting the second worst!”

“But it’s not the  _ worst _ worst,” Keith reminded him. “Which is you. Because you’re last!” He put down a green plus 2. Lance put down a red plus 2. It went back and forth until Keith threw his hand on the table and said, “Fuck! Ten fucking cards?  _ Ten _ cards? I quit.”

“Oh, you forfeit?” Lance asked, grinning. “You’re in last?”

“Yes,” Keith sighed, defeated. “I’m last. I guess being  _ cute _ didn’t save me after all.”

Keith could’ve sworn Lance flushed. _ Great. Now things are awkward again. _ And that lunch period had been… really normal. Genuinely normal. Lance stumbled through the words, but he said, “I mean, I told you it wouldn’t. Hunk, cutie pie, has it ever saved  _ you _ ?”

Hunk didn’t look amused by Lance at all. “No.”

“See?” Lance asked, spreading his arms wide. 

Keith felt simultaneously better and worse. Lance didn’t call just him cute, which made him feel a little worse. On the other hand, having it be a normal thing for Lance’s friends meant Lance didn’t think much of it when Keith brought it up. “Yeah, yeah. Come on. I want to get to fifth period some time  _ today _ , please.”

“Sure,” Lance said. “Let’s go.”

When they saw Nyma with Plaxum again, and Nyma saw Lance, she looked oddly  _ guilty. _ “Oh. Hi, Lance,” she said. She swayed on her feet.

“Hey, Nyma,” Lance said, stopping to talk to her. Keith almost got whiplash- since when was Lance so casual about Nyma? “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Nyma said, glancing at Plaxum. “Um, how are you?”

“I’m good, too,” Lance said. And he smiled. And Nyma must’ve figure that was genuine, and they didn’t have to be awkward acquaintances anymore, because she smiled too. “See you around, Nyma. And Plaxum!”

“Bye, Lance,” Nyma said, waving.

“What was that?” Keith asked, still standing still.

“Not all breakups end messy,” Lance answered. “Like I said, we were a lot more fun than romantic, so it was just awkward for a little. But, um, I think I’m good. With her, I mean.”

Keith nodded. “Well. I’m glad. See you, Lance. This is my class.”

“I know,” Lance said. “You’re coming to practice today, right?”

Keith faltered. “Oh, I guess I’ve just been forgetting to go.” He shouldered his backpack strap awkwardly. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Lance said. “The underclassmen have actually gotten a bit better. Maybe we won’t lose by an embarrassing number of points to Daibazaal. But you’re coming today, right?”

“Sure,” Keith said.

“Cool,” Lance said, turning around to sprint to his next class since the warning bell had just rung. “See you!”

“See you,” Keith said to empty space. He took a deep breath and walked into fifth period.

___________________________________________

  
Keith actually stayed the whole practice until 4. He talked to Florona and Swirn since Luxia was absent that day. At the end, Lance jogged over to Keith. “Hey, did you drive here?”

“I took my motorcycle this morning,” Keith said, confused. “Why?”

“Because I need a ride,” Lance said sheepishly. “ _ Before _ you say no, it’s cause-”

“I wasn’t gonna say no,” Keith interrupted.  _ Shit. Too eager. Too obvious. _

“Oh,” Lance said. His cheeks were  _ definitely _ flushed, Keith decided. But then again, he’d just been told he’d get a ride home with the guy who has a crush on him. Plus, they’d been running around the school field for an hour and a half. “Uh, thanks. Let me just get my backpack.”

“Sure,” Keith said. He chugged his water bottle.  _ Stop fucking blushing.  _ Lance was finally acting normally again, he didn’t want to make it awkward. 

Lance came back. Keith gave him Pidge’s helmet and climbed onto the bike. He was thankful Lance couldn’t see his face. Lance was somewhat hesitant to wrap his arms around Keith’s waist, Keith realized with a sinking feeling. Maybe things weren’t quite  _ that _ normal again.

When he stopped in front of Lance’s house, Lance hopped off and turned around. “See you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Keith said. “And we have the game on Saturday.”

“Exciting, even if we’ll lose,” Lance said. “Should I give you the helmet now?”

“Pidge would appreciate it.”

“Okay,” Lance agreed. “See you,” he said again, before turning on his heel and walking into the house.

Keith groaned and sped all the way home.

_______________________________________

  
Friday went as well as could’ve been expected. Lance still seemed like he was overcompensating, but it wasn’t  _ as _ horribly awkward as it had been. 

Saturday at 1pm, Lance texted Keith. 

_ pidge & hunk are coming so you should too!!! _

Keith frowned. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and texted back.  _ Now? _

_ when else? _

Keith hauled himself up from the floor, where he’d been doing crunches, and shouted, “Takashit! I’m leaving!”

“Cool,” Shiro yelled back from upstairs. 

Keith reapplied deodorant and changed his shirt. As an afterthought, he grabbed his backpack and shoved his soccer uniform and cleats in it. He elected to take the car because it was 85 degrees outside for god knows what reason and he didn’t feel like putting on pants and a jacket in that kind of weather. 

He parked outside of Lance’s house after a drive full of singing along badly to good music. 

_ House or barn? _

He killed the engine and sat there for a moment, waiting for Lance’s reply.  _ house. i’ll come to the front. _

He walked towards the front of the house. Lance was opening the door and waving him in before he got to the front steps. “Hey!”

“Hey,” he said. “You didn’t forget about the soccer game, did you?”

“No,” Lance said. “I just wanted to have a study group before it. We have to study, Keith.”

“I know that,” he said defensively. He was glad Lance wasn’t overcompensating anymore. It felt  _ actually _ normal. “It’s just… AP is so hard. The College Board is so hard. Everything is hard. Soccer is the break.”

“Relax,” Lance said. “We’ll do fine. And the Saturday after all the AP tests is our match against Galra. How exciting is that?”

“So exciting,” Keith said, following Lance into the house. “Can’t wait to lose.”

To his surprise, Allura is there as well. “Hey, Keith,” she says, smiling brightly. Her hair was (re-dyed?) dark and she must’ve gotten a haircut recently, because her hair was in its natural afro, all curls and coils. She was sitting in a living room chair with a fan blowing directly onto her. “Ready to study for those lovely college tests?”

“Very,” Keith said, dropping his backpack on the floor in front of the sofa and sitting down. “I’m dying, but they’ll be over soon, right?”

“Just a couple weeks,” Hunk said. “Then you’ll be free to worry about losing soccer instead.”

“Hunk,” Allura said. “You don’t have to crush his spirits  _ quite _ yet.”

“For your information, asshat,” Lance said, pointing a finger at Hunk, “Keith scored a winning goal last time. So we won. Not lose. Wait- we don’t- we didn’t lose.”

“Take your time,” Keith said dryly, pulling notes out of his bag. 

“Shut up,” Lance huffed. “I was talking about how great you are!”

Keith rolled his eyes. Allura snorted. Pidge piped up, “Listen, I’m trying to get a 5 on these tests, so can you stop arguing about soccer and study? Hunk, help me with Comp Sci!”

“Okay, okay,” Hunk said, rolling his eyes. “Jeez. I forgot how many AP tests juniors usually take.”

“It’s junior year,” Pidge said. “That’s when you’re supposed to take them all. I’m not gonna be a senior trying to scrounge up college love.”

“Colleges already love you,” Keith scoffed.

“Yeah, Katie, you have nothing to worry about,” Allura said. 

“Easy for you to say,” Pidge said, her voice very quickly becoming high-pitched. “I still have to pass them! You’re a genius, Allura, you’ve never had to worry about AP tests!”

“And you took IB and didn’t die,” Hunk reminded her. “Extra genius.”

Allura grimaced. “Yeah, I did. IB is awful, and none of you should do it. And anyway, I’m not really taking an AP class since I’m a college student. It’s not advanced placement anymore, it’s a regular chemistry class.”

“You’re gonna be a great chemist,” Lance said. “Your dad is crazy good with that stuff.”

“Well, he  _ is _ my idol,” Allura said.

“Can we study?” Pidge squawked. “Isn’t that why we’re here? To study? Pass? Earn scholarships and college credit?”

“Katie, relax,” Allura said. “You want some tea? Coffee?” She started to move her stuff out of her lap and stand up.

“I don’t want any bean water! I want 5’s!”

“You like yours with cream, right?” Allura asked, already walking towards the kitchen, ignoring Pidge’s words.

She crossed her arms and pouted. “And sugar. A lot.”

Allura hummed and started making coffee in the McClain’s kitchen. “Does anyone else want any?”

“Yeah!” Lance called, leaning back a bit. “Keith, do you want any?”

“Sure,” Keith said.

“Me, too,” Hunk added. “So, everyone.”

A few minutes later, Allura came out holding two mugs. She gave one to Pidge and sat down in her chair. “Yours are all in the kitchen. I don’t know how you like your coffee.”

Lance stood up way too quickly and said, “I’ll get yours,” to Keith. He took two steps before looking at Hunk meaningfully. “Yours, too.”

“Thanks,” Hunk said flatly.

“No problemo!” Lance came back and gave Keith his mug, sitting down in front of the couch. “So, we’ve got a couple hours before we have to go to the game. Are any of you guys gonna come support the AHS soccer team?”

“No,” Pidge said. 

“I’ll go if Pidge goes,” Hunk said.

Allura made a face. “Come  _ on _ , you two! We should go. It’ll be fun!”

“It’s hot outside,” Pidge pointed out. 

“Your point?”

“I don’t like to sweat.”

“You aren’t going to sweat. You aren’t exerting yourself at all by sitting on bleachers.”

“Sitting on bleachers and baking in the sun,” Pidge reminded her. “I don’t tan, Allura. I burn.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Allura said dismissively. “Come on, you guys! The games don’t last that long. Katie, if you come, I’ll buy you ice cream.”

“From?”

“Ben & Jerry’s,” Allura said. “Half-baked.”

“I  _ guess _ I can find it in myself to go,” Pidge said defeatedly, slouching. 

Allura smiled. “I knew you could.” She turned to Hunk. “Well, Katie is going, so now you have to, too.”

Hunk made a face. “I guess I’ll just drown in my own sweat, then.”

“Guess you will, buddy,” Lance said, grinning stupidly, but for some reason, Keith found it endearing. “I’m glad you guys are coming, even though we’re probably gonna lose.”

“Do we have to wait for you guys to shower and change after the game?” Pidge asked, scrunching her nose. 

“Yes, unless you don’t care about us stinking up the car,” Lance said pointedly. 

“Disgusting.”

“Don’t hate on natural bodily functions, Pidge,” Lance scolded. “Everyone stinks until they put Old Spice in their pits.” He turned his head and narrowed his eyes at Keith. “You use Old Spice, right?”

“Of course,” Keith scoffed. “What do you take me for, a heathen?”

Hunk groaned loudly. “Can we please focus on studying before we have to go to their stupid soccer game? I mean, that’s what we came here for, right? To study? For the AP exams? I don’t want to get any 1’s or 2’s!”

“ _ Thank _ you!” Pidge said, exasperated.

“I miss calling them AP exams,” Allura sighed. “Now I have to study harder for a more difficult test.”

“Multiple, actually,” Lance said. “You regret graduating early yet?”

“Never,” Allura said immediately. “I didn’t need to suffer a senior year. I  _ know _ I would’ve been a victim of chronic senioritis.” 

“Nah, you’re a stellar student,” Lance said, waving his hand. “Anything less than a 3.8 gives you a migraine.”

“Well, I wasn’t born smart or gifted, so my teachers actually taught me how to study and get better at a young age,” Allura said. 

Keith pulled out his Physics notes and started going over them with a highlighter. He had a pink one and a yellow one, but he wasn’t sure why he would need two different colors. Maybe he could organize his notes a little more?

When it was 3:30, Lance nudged Keith and told him as much. “You brought your uniform, right?” He asked suspiciously. 

“Yeah, it’s in my bag,” Keith replied. “I did  _ almost _ forgot it, though.”

Lance nodded, stood up, and stretched. “Well, you guys only really have to get there at about 4:15. But you  _ are _ coming, right?”

“Of course,” Allura said, smiling brightly.

“All right,” Lance said. “See you!”

Keith zipped up his backpack and threw it over his shoulder. “Bye, guys.” He walked after Lance, who was walking briskly towards his car. “Are you driving again?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” Keith said, slightly embarrassed. “I mean, I could drive if you’re tired of it. It seems like you’re always the one driving.”

“I like driving,” Lance said simply. “Do you want to drive?”

“Not really,” Keith admitted. “I just figured I should offer.”

Lance laughed. “Get in the car, Kogane.”

They changed in the school locker rooms. They were playing against Dibazaal Prep, so the team wasn’t optimistic, but they were still ready to play.

Allura, Hunk, and Pidge came a couple minutes early. Pidge was wearing a pink baseball cap with a pineapple on it that Keith knew for a fact was one of Matt’s. 

They ended up losing the game by three points. Lance wasn’t too bothered, it seemed. “It wasn’t four points,” he told the team while in the locker room after showering. “So we didn’t do as badly as we could’ve!”

Keith snorted. “Way to make us feel better.”

“Well, do you?”

“A bit,” Keith said, but only for Lance’s benefit. He hadn’t felt that badly in the first place because he got to spend the entire first half watching Lance be an  _ excellent _ soccer player.

“Are you feeling a party tonight?”

“Are  _ you _ ?”

Lance made a face. “Not if you aren’t.”

“I mean, I wasn’t planning on it,” Keith said, shrugging. “And I don’t know if there are even any good ones going on tonight.”

“You’re probably right,” Lance said, running his hand through his hair to get some of the water out. “I haven’t heard about any parties.”

“Maybe after exams,” Keith offered.

“There’s definitely gonna be one then,” Lance said, practically beaming at the thought. “Come on, Pidge is probably annoyed by now.”

“She’s definitely annoyed by now,” Keith agreed. “Let’s go, Sharpshooter.”

“Cause I score goals so…” Lance paused. “Um, sharply?”

“I’ll give you more time to think on it,” Keith said, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. 

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, I want to get Ben & Jerry’s, too, Pidge isn’t the only one who loves half-baked…”

Lance rambled on about the different kinds of ice cream flavors at Ben & Jerry’s and the qualities of each one. Keith was only half listening, but he couldn’t stop smiling, and he couldn’t stop feeling so warm because Lance was smiling, too, and even if he wasn’t smiling directly because of Keith, he was smiling around Keith…

_ Oh my god, _ Keith thought with sudden, dreadful clarity. 

_ I’m whipped. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o o f
> 
> also allura with an afro!! love it!! it's canon babe!


	15. In Bloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Bloom by Neck Deep: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RPzf_4dcL28
> 
> oh my................

Fortunately for all of them, the AP exams came and went much faster than they thought they would. They had a few more study sessions, and the soccer season was close to ending. The only game they’d won so far was the first one, but they were only losing by 1 or 2 points, which Lance seemed pleased with. He was even acting  _ consistently _ normal, but there were still moments where Lance seemed to stutter or not know what to say. Those moments made Keith want to lie down in a gutter.

Since the 17th was the Statistics test and Pidge, Hunk, and Lance were all taking it, Keith decided to stay home from school. No one he talked to was going to be there, so what was the point if he was just going to be miserable all day? Besides, he’d done other tests already. He deserved a break after that awful Calc test.

Unfortunately, that was the day he decided to sit on the back porch, in broad daylight, on the day that the pollen around the Shirogane-Kogane residence decided to act up.

Keith’s voice was cracking and his nose was running Friday morning. He took cold medicine, but complained to Shiro about it anyway.

“Seriously?” He pressed the ‘start’ button on the coffee maker angrily. “I just wanted to be outside! Enjoy the sun!”

His voice cracked on ‘sun’ and Shiro snorted. “Well, that really sucks, Keith, but you already skipped yesterday, so I’m making you go today.”

“Why can’t you be a cool older brother for once?”

“I let you smoke weed in this house and drink.”

“I-” Keith opened his mouth to continue, but stopped. “That’s besides the point.”

“That’s exactly the point,” Shiro said, throwing away his muffin wrapper. “I  _ am _ a cool older brother. You have to deal with that.”

“How’s Slav?”

“That was very uncool of you,” Shiro said, rummaging through the pantry. “You can’t distract me with my boyfriend.”

“Maybe I’m just curious and I want to know how your relationship is going.”

“No, you don’t. You want to skip. He’s great, though. We’re still steady. I don’t know, he’s really sweet but when he’s nervous he starts spitting out random facts and statistics, like I told you, but it’s endearing, really.”

“Is he nervous a lot?”

“The guy’s got awful anxiety, Keith,” Shiro said, wiping his mouth. “Doesn’t like traffic, rain, driving, walking down stairs... I could go on.”

“Jeez,” Keith said, pulling the coffee pot off the machine and pouring it into two mugs. “That sucks.”

Shiro shrugged and accepted his mug. “Not much you can do. I think he has an appointment with a psychiatrist next week, though.”

“Oh, good for him,” Keith said. “Wait. Don’t you have work today?”

“Said I wasn’t needed,” Shiro explained. “Don’t know why, but I have the morning off. So I get to make sure you actually go to school!”

“Fun,” Keith deadpanned, and his voice cracked again. He picked up his backpack and blew his nose before leaving the house to pick up Pidge. 

Pidge trotted down her walkway towards the motorcycle. “Hey, Keith,” she said, putting on her helmet.

“Hey, Pidge,” Keith said in what could be described as the worst voice crack this morning.

She froze and then started laughing, but it was somewhat muffled by the helmet. “You going through puberty again, Keith?”

“Shut up,” he said. “I’m  _ sick _ .”

“I think that’s a world record for voice cracks in a single sentence.”

“Do you want to walk?”

“ _ No _ , no, no, you don’t have to get so  _ petty _ . Keith. I’m sorry. I love you. You’ll drive me, right? Keith?”

He rolled his eyes. “Get on.”

She hopped on and said, “See, I knew hating me was just a phase. Hormones are crazy.”

He revved the engine a little louder than necessary.

_______________________________________

  
Lance seemed relaxed that day. He sat down in fourth period and waved. “Hey! How’re you doing today?”

“Take a wild guess,” Keith said. His voice cracked on wild.

Lance’s lips twitched, and then he started laughing. “You sound like a  _ toad _ !”

“Shut  _ up _ !” His voice cracked again.

Lance teased him about it for nearly fifteen minutes before letting up. “All right, all right, if you’re so sensitive about it…”

“I’m not  _ sensitive _ ! You’re just  _ mean _ .” He said the words as slowly as possible, but his voice cracked twice anyway.

Lance did his best to continue the conversation without poking fun at Keith, but it was difficult when he had to clear his throat every five seconds and talk extremely carefully.

When the bell rang and they went to their usual lunch room, Hunk was sitting in his chair, with his feet up on the table, playing Go Fish with Pidge. 

Lance and Keith sat down. Lance asked, “Hey, Pidgey, wanna deal me in?”

“No,” Pidge said, almost absentmindedly. “But I will anyway because I  _ love _ my friends.”

“Gay,” Hunk said. She shoved his shoulder, but he didn’t budge, just raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. Keith snorted.

She dealt both of them in and Hunk ended up winning with nine pairs.

“How is this even  _ possible _ ?” Pidge groaned. “Why are you so good at Go Fish?”

“It’s easier when you play 4’s than 2’s,” Hunk said, somewhat smug. “It gives you a little more time, I guess. Have you tried being better at Go Fish?”

“No, but I think I’ll give it a shot,” Pidge replied, matching Hunk’s innocent tone. “That’s some really nice advice! Have you considered becoming a life coach?”

“The thought  _ has _ crossed my mind.”

“Can we just play again?” Keith asked, shoving his cards in the middle. He winced at his voice cracks.

“ _ Someone’s _ upset they didn’t get any matches,” Lance said airily. 

“You and Hunk kept  _ stealing _ them!”

“That’s what you’re  _ supposed _ to do, Keithy,” Lance said in a patronizing tone. “You could try stealing some of ours next round. I think that helps.”

Keith crossed his arms. “Fine. I will.”

He got one match. But it was stolen from Lance, and he took Lance’s 3 Queens with great satisfaction.

“Fuck you,” Lance said simply. “I have nothing else to say to you.”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Lancey Lance.”

Lance flushed and glared at Keith. “I am  _ not _ ! You’re cheating. There’s no other explanation!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Keith responded, shrugging.

Lance scoffed. “I’m gonna whoop your  _ ass _ next round, Kogane.”

He didn’t.

____________________________________

  
“This season has been rough,” Lance said. “I know. But this is Galra. If you’re a freshman, I’m sure you’re not as hateful, but these guys? They suck. They’re awful. Their team captain is the worst, most smug bastard in the world. I have a personal vendetta against him. So we really,  _ really _ have to pull a magic trick out of our asses.”

“Go team,” Keith said. He glanced over at the bleachers, where Pidge, Hunk, and Allura were. Allura had managed to convince them because Galra and AHS were rivals and it was only seventy degrees out. She hadn’t dyed her hair again. It was still dark and she’d put it in space buns.

“Thank you, Mr. Kogane,” Lance said, rolling his eyes.

Swirn and Luxia clapped. “That was an inspiring speech,” Swirn said. “Lotor is gonna eat  _ dirt _ today, ladies and gentlemen.”

They broke off into groups of who was playing which quarters. Keith frowned. “Wait, Lance.” His voice cracked on Lance.

He turned. “Yeah?”

“Personal vendetta?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lance said. He looked a little sheepish. “Well, I’ve played against him for four years, and he kisses the ref’s ass so they don’t penalize him but they do anyway, thank god. And… you know Allura?”

“Yes, Lance, I know Allura. Is he her ex or something?”

“No,” Lance said. “He’s Allura’s sort-of cousin.”

Keith took a moment to process that. “She seems to have a lot of those.”

Lance laughed. “Yeah, well. Without going into too much detail, Allura and Lotor’s families were really close. Then their dads went into a business together, but they screwed over Uncle Alfor big time. So, yeah. Giant dickheads.”

“Yeah, wow,” Keith said. He was a little taken back. He shook his head. “What kind of pretentious asshole names their kid  _ Lotor _ ?”

Lance grinned. “It’s one of the ugliest names I’ve ever heard.”

This Lotor character got even worse when Keith actually  _ saw _ him. “Is his hair that long on purpose?”

“I hate to admit it, but his hair is really nice. Like, high quality. It makes him look like a douche, but that’s whatever.” He looked at Keith and gave him a lopsided smile. “Don’t worry.  _ Your _ long hair doesn’t make you look like a douche.”

“I’m blessed,” Keith said, voice stony. “Come on, let’s go kick his ass.”

Lance hadn’t been lying. Lotor was kissing the referees’ asses. He played dirty. The only reason Galra and AHS were tied by the second half was because Lotor kept getting penalty kicks for them.  _ His dad must donate a lot of money to Galra, _ Keith thought.  _ He sucks way too much to have earned the captain title. _

Since Keith played offensive the first half, he watched the second half. His eyes were narrowed at Lotor, who had just  _ very _ obviously fouled. 

Lance was the one who took the penalty kick. There were 14 seconds left in the game. The Galra goalie was good, but Keith had confidence that Lance was better. He’d been playing for years; he could score. Especially if they were tied 5-5 and he had a free shot right in front of him.

Keith saw Lance take a deep breath, and then he kicked the ball.

The goalie tripped.

Keith stared, because he couldn’t believe that had  _ actually _ just happened. The goalie started towards the left side of the goal, where the ball was going, but his left foot caught on his right foot and he fell in the dirt.

Lance was shocked, too, but then Olia and Swirn broke out in loud whoops. 

The clock hit zero and Lance came back to the cooler, beaming. “Did you- did you see that? I’m not imagining that, right?”

Keith couldn’t stop smiling, either. “I couldn’t believe he tripped.” He looked over Lance’s shoulder and frowned. Lotor was yelling at the goalie. “God, what an ass.”

“He can make an  _ ass _ of himself all he wants,” Lance said, mocking Keith’s voice cracks. “We’re celebrating!”

Keith’s shoulders slumped. “I dunno. I think I’m gonna skip out on this one. I still feel really sick and I’ve had this headache since eleven o’clock. Rain check?”

Lance sighed. “I mean, yeah, rain check, but I’m probably gonna go out anyway. Swirn and Luxia already told me they’re going to Nyma’s to celebrate. Apparently her mom is out of town.”

“Nyma’s?” Keith’s throat constricted and he was suddenly glad he had an excuse for  _ that _ voice crack. 

“Yeah,” Lance said, frowning at him. “Are you okay?”

“Sick,” Keith said quickly. “Remember?”

Lance looked like he was holding back a smile. “Oh, yeah. Well, it’s just Nyma. We’re okay with each other, remember? And I know how to take care of myself at parties.”

“Make sure you pour your own drink,” Keith said. To anyone else, it might’ve seemed like a joke.

Lance grimaced. “Yeah.  _ That’s _ the lesson of the year.”

Allura babbled about the game from the passenger seat the whole ride back to Lance’s. “Did you see his face when you beat him? He saw me after the game. I flipped him off and he had a temper tantrum and left.”

“Good,” Lance said. “He’s a douche.”

Allura hummed in agreement, and then started talking about the game again. Keith tuned it out- Lance was going to Nyma’s party. With Luxia and Swirn, sure, but he couldn’t help the jealousy. What if they reconnected?

He drove Pidge home from Lance’s (he had driven there before the game) and she took the opportunity to tell him that he and Lance seemed normal again and that she knew, for a fact, that Lance didn’t have feelings for Nyma anymore so he really shouldn’t worry.

“I wasn’t worried,” Keith lied.

“Keith, full offense, but I know you, and I know about your big ass crush. You were worried. But you shouldn’t be.”

“Maybe I was a little worried,” Keith admitted.

She smirked. “I thought so. Bye, Keith.”

“Bye, Pidge,” he said. She got out of the car and he waited until she was inside and waved at him through the screen door.

He parked in his driveway. He walked in the door and saw the tops of Slav and Shiro’s heads. They were sitting on the couch together. 

“Hey, Shiro,” Keith said. “Hi, Slav.” He winced at the sound of his voice.

“Hello,” Slav said. He visibly stiffened. “Are you sick?”

“A little.”

“Hi, Keith,” Shiro said. “Do you need anything?” He gave Keith a look that said  _ I am really annoyed you just interrupted me and my boyfriend. _

“No, just letting you know I’m home,” Keith answered, walking up the stairs. “I don’t have any plans tonight, either!”

He flopped down on his bed and suddenly realized how tired he was. His muscles ached because he hadn’t gone to the gym since Wednesday and he’d gotten way less sleep than usual.

He fell asleep surprisingly early.

_________________________________________

  
His phone woke him up.

Keith squinted at the bright screen and groaned. He must’ve accidentally turned on the ringer. He would sleep through vibrate. It took him a couple tries, but he read the name on the screen.  _ Lance. _

“H’llo?” He grunted, pushing himself up onto his elbows. 

“Good morning, Sunshine!”

“Lance,” Keith croaked. His voice was even worse since he’d just woken up. “It’s one in the morning.”

“It’s 12:32 where I am,” Lance said loudly. Keith winced and pulled the phone a couple inches from his ear. “Can you… Sunshine, can you do me a favor?”

“Depends.”

“Hunk isn’t picking up his phone, Luxia and Swirn left two hours ago, and I am  _ way _ too drunk to walk home. Also, home is  _ really _ far away! Even if I  _ wasn’t _ super drunk, I wouldn’t want to walk that far.”

“So you want me to pick you up.”

“Please?”

Keith inhaled deeply.  _ The things I do for love. _ Then he flinched. Love.  _ Just a crush _ , he reminded himself. A very unreciprocated crush. 

“How drunk are you?”

“Not sure. If I had to say 1 to 10, I think perhaps a nine. But I took another four shots like, ten minutes ago, so it’s gonna get a  _ lot _ worse!” He said it like he’d told Keith the greatest news in the world and laughed shortly. “You’re coming?”

“Yes,” Keith said, sighing. “Where in the house are you?”

“Probably the front. I don’t remember.”

_ Jesus Christ. _ “Okay. I’m coming.”

He was glad he knew where Nyma’s house was anyway, because getting an address for Lance would’ve been the newest  _ Mission: Impossible _ movie. He was surprised when Shiro wasn’t in the house- apparently he had gone to Slav’s, if the text sent by Shiro at 10:17 was anything to go by.

He heard the music before he even turned on to the street. He wondered how many noise complaints there had been that night. 

He parked in front of the house next to Nyma’s since he didn’t want to deal with all the car directly by Nyma’s house. He pushed his way through sweaty people that smelled like vomit, and found Lance by the dining room table. Taking a shot.

“Absolutely  _ not _ ,” he said, pulling Lance out of his chair by the arm. “You’re going home.”

“Keith,” Lance slurred. “It’s a party. You’re a party pooper.”

“I’ll be surprised if you don’t shit your pants tonight,” Keith said, tugging on Lance’s arm. Lance laced his fingers with Keith’s hand and started swinging them dramatically, walking awkwardly towards the car.

Keith turned a little pink, but Lance was drunk. He didn’t read too much into it. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

“No,” Lance said, and he looked almost panicked. “Mom’ll kill me. Or Vernoca. Vernon- Veron-”

“Veronica?”

“Yes,” Lance said, nodding sagely while Keith pushed him into the passenger seat. “She.”

“Hunk’s?”

“Why not you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Lance said earnestly. “Why not you? Your house has… it has beds. Places to sleep. But that’s not  _ all _ people use beds for.” He  _ chortled _ . 

“Sometimes they nap instead of only sleeping,” Keith said, hoping Lance wasn’t trying to talk to him about  _ other _ bedroom activities. He started the car and looked over at Lance, somewhat sympathetically. “Man, you are  _ hammered _ . Don’t you know your limits?”

“Sailed past ‘em,” Lance mumbled. His eyes were closed. “Sailed. Sorry. Took a couple and then boom! Kept taking! I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Keith said, voice throaty, even though it was completely, 100% Lance’s fault and no one else’s.

“No,” Lance said, and his neck rolled so the seat belt cut into it. Keith braked at a stop sign and pushed the seat belt down further. “For making… for making things awkward.”

“What?”

He glanced at Lance with his eyebrows furrowed, but Lance was close to nodding off. “Making things. Awkward. For us. I’m sorry.”

“That was definitely not your fault,” Keith said tightly. He thought Lance had forgotten about it. But now Drunk Lance was telling Keith he was sorry for being weird when he found out Keith had a crush on him. 

“You felt weird.”

“I think you felt weirder, really.”

“I was kinda hopin’ you wouldn’t notice,” Lance mumbled. Then, barely coherent, he said, “Thought you didn’t wanna be friends. Cause you felt awkward.”

“Why would  _ I _ not want to be friends?” Keith frowned.

“Well, you did wanna be friends,” Lance said. He leaned against the window. He looked like he could’ve been asleep. “And it really sucked. I felt bad.”

“I don’t want your pity, Lance.” Keith’s knuckles turned white. “Just go to sleep.”

“Now you’re mad again,” Lance said, looking over at Keith. “I just wanted you to like me.”

“What?” Now Keith was just confused. Why would Lance  _ want _ him to like him?

“You  _ know _ what.” Lance’s eyebrows scrunched together. “You found out. Now it’s okay, but it was bad.”

“I found out  _ what _ ?” Keith was frustrated, but his throat felt like it had been locked. 

Lance was drifting off. He moved his mouth a couple times before actual words came out. “I like you.”

Keith’s breath hitched and he almost choked.

He slammed the brakes and stared at Lance. _ “What?” _

But Drunk Lance was either a really good actor, or he passed out. Keith took a steadying breath and continued the drive. However groggy he had been, he was now wide awake. And his heart was beating way too fast. He had to concentrate on slowing his breathing. He was almost thankful that Lance had passed out, because now he couldn’t see just how scarlet Keith was. 

But was what Lance had said true? Drunk people said a lot of things that didn’t mean anything. Lance would wake up, hungover, and he wouldn’t remember anything. If Keith brought it up, it would make things a thousand times worse than they had been in April, because if Lance  _ hadn’t _ known Keith liked him, then it would’ve been apparent when he asked about it. 

And if Lance  _ did _ know, things would be weird because Keith had to bring it up again when they’d just gotten over the weirdness. 

He was drumming his fingers absentmindedly, trying to figure out what to make of the conversation he just had. 

_ A drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts, _ Shiro liked to say.

_ But how often is that really true, Takashi?  _ Keith thought, risking another look at Lance. What if Lance had just been messing around? Or he was just drunk and saying things?

It was an anxious drive home. He parked and sat in the silent car for a moment, thinking about how much had changed in the last ten minutes. He got out and walked to the other side. Lance was dead weight, but he woke up enough that he was mumbling incoherently and stumbling towards the house. His arm was over Keith’s shoulder, and Keith was struggling to keep him up.

It took at least another five minutes to get Lance through the door. Keith decided it wasn’t worth it to get him up the stairs, so he pushed him onto the sofa and pulled off his sneakers. He rolled Lance onto his stomach in case he started vomiting, because he didn’t want him to choke if he did. He went to the linen closet to put a blanket on Lance. He kept one for himself and fell asleep on the recliner. It seemed to be their thing for when Lance stayed with him.

He didn’t stop thinking about the way Lance had said  _ I like you _ until he was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> delicious!


	16. Reverend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reverend by Kings of Leon: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ldaMJG_sb18

Keith woke up first.

It was almost 10, which meant Shiro  _ might _ come home, but he might also stay with Slav well into the afternoon. He dug around in the refrigerator looking for anything that would help Lance with his hangover when he very suddenly remembered that Lance bragged about not ever getting hangovers or blackouts. 

“Oh, shit,” he said to himself, and his gaze snapped over to Lance’s sleeping figure. What if he remembered everything? According to him, he would. But he was definitely more drunk than Keith had ever seen him. Maybe he went a little too far for his “family gift.”

Keith settled on toasting the frozen Eggos. He made enough coffee for two people and kept the second half in the pot. He sat at the counter, sipping on coffee, eating a waffle, and looking at his phone. He looked over at Lance, but he was still asleep. 

He checked his email for the yearbook and saw that he was scheduled to photograph prom next Friday night. He hadn’t talked to Mrs. Alfie outside of class in a while. The email had been sent on May 8th.

He had to double check, because he hadn’t realized prom was so soon. He switched to texts and sent a message to Pidge.  _ I gotta talk to you. _

He yawned and movement from the couch caught his eye. Lance’s head came into view. He’d sat up. He turned around and squinted blearily at Keith. “Keith?”

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Keith said, eyebrow cocked. “How’re you doing?”

“I can’t tell what were dreams and what were memories.” Lance stood up and started walking towards the counter. Keith pushed the other place towards him. 

“You blacked out.”

“I-” Lance’s face went slack and he frowned. He looked like he was  _ pink _ . “...I guess I did. I don’t remember anything. Did I… Did I say anything embarrassing?”

“Depends on what you call embarrassing,” Keith said easily. He turned around and pretended to mess with the coffeemaker so he didn’t have to be face to face with Lance. “You said some weird stuff, but nothing bad.”

“Weird stuff,” Lance repeated. 

“Yeah.” Keith grabbed a mug from the cabinet and some out for Lance. He finally turned around and set it down. Lance’s eyebrows were scrunched together. “Why?”

“Sometimes I say things drunk,” Lance said thickly. 

“Oh.” Keith’s mood dropped.  _ I don’t even know what I expected.  _ “Happens to the best of us.”

“Is that why it doesn’t happen to you?” Lance’s lips quirked and Keith felt his heart jump.

“I say plenty of stupid shit when inebriated,” Keith retorted.  _ Sometimes I say things drunk. _ Of course Lance didn’t  _ actually _ like him. Or, he did, but not in the way Keith wanted him to, and in his drunken state, he said it in a way that came off wrong. 

“I know. I’ve seen you drunk off your ass,” Lance said, stuffing a piece of waffle in his mouth. “It’s adorable, really.”

And then Lance had to go and say something like that. 

_ What the fuck? What the fuck!  _ Keith blinked, and then said, “I am  _ not _ adorable.”

“That’s what  _ you _ think.”

“I’m not!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mullet,” Lance said, and he couldn’t hold back a smile. He was  _ teasing _ Keith. 

Keith glared at him. “Shut up. I gave you waffles. Aren’t you hungover?”

“I told you,” Lance said smugly, “I don’t get hungover.”

“You also said you don’t black out and forget things,” Keith reminded him. “Yet look what happened.”

Lance looked away. “Yeah, well. I’m not hungover. Just kinda tired, really.”

“You’ve been sleeping for hours.”

“You can’t ever get too much sleep, Keith.” Lance finished his waffles and stood up, walking over into the kitchen. He rinsed his plate and fork. “How long have you been up?”

“Not long,” Keith said, shrugging. “Maybe fifteen minutes. Probably less.”

His phone buzzed and he glanced at the notification. It was a reply from Pidge.  _ Why and what about? _

_ Things with Lance. _

Her reply was almost immediate.  _ Of fucking course. _

“Who’re you texting?” Lance asked, sitting down on a stool. 

“Just Pidge,” Keith answered, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “I’m gonna see her later, that’s all.”

“Why?” Lance looked confused.

“Cause why not?” Keith did his best to sound casual. “We didn’t really talk yesterday.”

Lance just raised an eyebrow. “Well, okay. You know how weird you make hanging out with your friends sound?”

“You were pressuring me. I’m not good under pressure.”

“I just asked you why!”

“That’s  _ pressuring _ !”

“Hey, your voice isn’t cracking as much anymore,” Lance said suddenly, like he was just noticing. “That was quick. Like, three days.”

“It was just pollen.”

“You’re allergic to pollen?”

“I didn’t  _ think _ I was,” Keith said darkly, glaring out the window. “Do you need a ride home?”

Lance sighed. “Kicking me out?”

“Did you plan to stay?”

“Maybe I  _ did _ .”

“Sucks, because I have to go see Pidge. I’m driving, so I can finally pay you back for all those times you drove me.” He plucked his keys off the rack by the door. “Come on!”

“Car or motorcycle?” Lance asked hesitantly.

“Car,” Keith said, swinging open the door. “It’s too warm for me to put on clothes that will cover my arms and legs right now, and you’re wearing a T-shirt.”

“Got it,” Lance said, nodding sagely. He walked out the door and waited while Keith locked it. “Sorry for calling you, by the way.”

“It’s fine,” Keith said, pressing the ‘unlock’ button on his car keys. “I don’t know how else you would’ve gotten home.”

“Jeez, I don’t know, either,” Lance said, and he made a face. “Hunk didn’t pick up and I started freaking out. Another girl had to help me call you because I couldn’t read my phone right.”

“Who?”

“I’m not sure. She was pretty and she had brown hair, but I don’t remember anything else.”

“Well, at least it was a pretty girl who helped you.” Keith cringed. His voice sounded way too acidic.

“I guess,” Lance said, but he was frowning. “It doesn’t really make a difference. You got called in the end.”

“Lucky I picked up.”

“ _ Very _ lucky,” Lance said sincerely. 

A few minutes later, they turned onto Lance’s street. “Thanks again, Keith. I really might’ve ended up sleeping there,” Lance said, unbuckling his seat belt. 

Keith clenched and unclenched his jaw. “Oh.” It was so  _ stupid _ , there was no need for jealousy-

“Not  _ with _ Nyma,” Lance said quickly as if just realizing how what he had said sounded. “Just like. On the couch or something.”

“Oh,” Keith said, a lot more casually this time. “I thought you were gonna try and hook up with her.”

“I’m  _ really _ not interested in Nyma, Keith,” Lance said, and his voice took on a serious tone. Keith turned his head to look at him, but Lance was looking straight ahead.

“I know that,” Keith said, slightly delayed. He didn’t like where this conversation was going. He thought it was going to get real awkward, real fast.

“You don’t  _ act _ like it,” Lance said, and now he sounded sort of… annoyed? “Every time Nyma’s brought up, you make this  _ face _ and your voice gets this  _ way. _ She’s not a bad person.”

“I don’t dislike her and I don’t think she’s a bad person!”

“Then why do you hate her so much?” They were glaring at each other. “Why do you have some grudge against her? It’s not like she broke my heart or anything!”

“It’s not like that!”

“Then what is it  _ like _ ?” Lance asked, exasperated, and maybe a little desperate. 

“Never mind. It’s not important.” Keith parked. “Here’s your house. Have fun telling Veronica and your mom where you were.”

Lance still looked annoyed, but he just got out of the car. “Thanks, Keith.” He didn’t wait for a response before closing the door and walking across his lawn.

Keith waited until he was inside and groaned, hitting his head on the wheel, being sure to avoid the horn. He texted Pidge,  _ Can I come over now? _

She had apparently been waiting for his text.  _ Buy me McDonald’s and we can talk in your CAR. _

He rolled his eyes and grinned despite himself.  _ Fine. You’re lucky I’m already in the car. _

_ Why are you already in the car? _

He figured he could wait to explain for when she got in the car, so he left her on read. He turned on the radio and listened to music the entire drive, thinking about the last 24 hours. How much had changed?

_ Lance said, ‘I like you.’ _

But then he’d acted like nothing had changed. 

After he sent Pidge the  _ I’m outside  _ text and she got in the passenger seat, she buckled herself in and turned towards him. “Spill.”

He told her everything on the drive. How Lance was drunk, what Lance had said, how Lance had blacked out, how Lance acted that morning, why they argued just twenty minutes ago. She didn’t say anything until they were in the drive-thru. “I want a vanilla milkshake and fries.”

Keith got a McChicken and Sprite. “I just don’t get it,” he said, taking a bite. They’d parked in the McDonald’s lot. “Why is he acting like that?”

“Going  _ purely _ off of what you’ve said to me,” Pidge said, and she stopped to hold up her index finger. “I need to make this explicitly clear. Off of  _ only _ what you’ve just said to me right now, he  _ does _ like you.”

“But he said that he says things when he’s drunk-”

“Lance doesn’t black out, Keith.”

“What, so he lied and remembers?” Keith snapped. “Why would he lie?”

“Um,” Pidge said, staring like she couldn’t believe Keith had said something so stupid. “Because if he  _ does _ like you, he basically confessed last night. Of course he wants to pretend it didn’t happen if you don’t reciprocate those feelings.”

“I  _ do _ reciprocate,” Keith said. “Or I  _ would _ if  _ he _ liked  _ me- _ ”

“Can we just go on the assumption that he does for a bit?” Pidge interrupted. “Just pretend that you know, for sure, he likes you. The same way you like him. Maybe you just have to be the person who makes the first move, Keith.”

“I’m not good at that.”

“I know,” Pidge said, and he glared at her. “Don’t act hurt. You know it’s true. Lance is the one who makes the first move, yes, usually. But to him, probably, just going based off of how much I know about him in the time we’ve been friends-”

“Get to the point, please, Pidge.”

“He thinks yesterday was the first move. And you didn’t act any different. You didn’t say anything back. Maybe he thinks this is just your way of rejecting him. And if what he was drunkenly blabbering about, the whole deal in April- he thought you already knew. And now he knows he said all that shit yesterday to a completely sober Keith. How do you  _ think _ he feels?”

“I don’t  _ know _ !”

“Since you’re obviously inept, let me tell you. What I  _ think _ ,” she added hastily. “ _ Don’t _ quote me on any of this. But he probably feels like a stupid shit because he opened his giant mouth and brought up April. He said you found out about him, right? He thinks  _ he’s _ the one who’s unreciprocated. The way you acted this morning probably didn’t help. You were indifferent. You don’t feel the same way.”

“This is all assuming he likes me.”

Pidge took a deep, steadying breath. “Yes. All assuming he likes you. And that argument about Nyma? Why didn’t you just tell him you don’t like her because you’re jealous?”

“I  _ was _ jealous,” Keith corrected her. “I’m not anymore. And because then he’d know.”

“You should tell him.”

“I absolutely cannot do that.”

“Keith, stop being a little bitch for one second. According to you, he already knows, right? So clear the air. April is last month. This is May. What’s that stupid saying? ‘April showers bring May flowers?’ That awkward-as-fuck week was your shower. Maybe you’ll get a beautiful, metaphorical flower when you tell him.”

“ _ If _ I tell him.”

“You’re going to,” Pidge said, sipping her milkshake. “Or I will.”

“No the fuck you will not,” Keith said venomously, turning completely in his seat to stare at her. “That’s high-level betrayal.”

Pidge made a very dead expression. “Just tell him. Before prom. That’s your challenge for the week. Tell Lance about your big crush before Friday night at 8pm.”

“Too early.”

“No, it’s not. Just tell him, Keith. For the love of  _ Christ _ .”

“Fine,” Keith said before his brain could catch up with his mouth. “I mean, if-”

“No!” Pidge burst. “No ifs. Just tell him. Just find a time where you guys are alone or at least away from the group and  _ tell _ him.”

“ _ Why _ are you so insistent on this?”

“Because you’ll feel a lot better afterwards. Trust me, Keith. And Lance is… he’s a lot more understanding than you give him credit for, I think.”

“It’s easy for you to say I’ll feel better,” Keith snapped. “You’ve never confessed to some girl that you’ve had a pathetic crush on her for months, even when she had a girlfriend.”

“It’s a little too specific of a situation to happen to both of us,” Pidge said. She sighed and rubbed her temples. “I can’t force you. And you’re right, I’m not going tell him. But you are. You  _ should _ .”

“Maybe,” Keith said uncertainly, looking out the window. “If some golden opportunity pops up.”

Pidge scoffed. “Sometimes you have to make your own opportunities, Kogane.”

______________________________________________-

  
Unfortunately, he didn’t even know where to start looking for opportunities.

He figured apologizing was a good start, but that conversation could lead to why Keith was so annoyed and he wasn’t sure if he could cram that much of an emotional roller coaster in one conversation. 

He decided to ask Shiro. “So, how was your night?”

“Pretty good,” Shiro said, buttering his toast. “We watched  _ Jurassic World _ and I kissed him a lot.”

“Nice, nice,” Keith said, turning his head and trying to appear casual. 

“Yeah. Oh, by the way, I got an email this morning from my boss. I’m working the night shift for the next couple of months, so we don’t have to argue over the car, since I know you hate wearing jackets and jeans in the heat. Plus, it pays more.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Keith said, a little taken by surprise. “Well, um. So, I’ve got a hypothetical for you.”

“Hypotheticals rarely are,” he said. He sprinkled cinnamon sugar on his toast and gave Keith a flat look that said,  _ What are you about to do? _

“Fine. Never mind. I don’t have a hypothetical. I have a question. How did you and Slav get together?”

“I was partnered with him for a project and he annoyed the ever-loving shit out of me. But he’s got a habit of growing on people. Eventually I just asked him if he wanted to get coffee, but I had to clarify that I meant it romantically.” Shiro narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

Keith shrugged and looked away again. “I dunno. Maybe I’m just in the mood for a beautiful story.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for saving me time by not even trying to deny it, but I still want to know what piqued your interest.”

Keith sat on the stool and leaned on the counter with his elbows. “I think… Maybe I  _ should _ tell him. You know?”

Shiro blinked, then nodded. “Okay. Sounds like a good idea. But maybe you should also be able to say his name without getting flustered.”

“I want to tell Lance.” Keith paused. “That… I like him. A lot.”

“When did you make that decision?”

“This morning when Pidge told me to.”

“Is there more to the story? I feel like Pidge telling you isn’t the only part of it.” Shiro raised his eyebrows and took another bite of his toast.

He didn’t want to tell Shiro everything Pidge had said out of fear that she was wrong and it blew up in his face. “She made a very strong case.”

Shiro snorted. “Okay. She made a good case for it. But you don’t know how to?”

“I have no idea how to even bring it up. We got into an argument and I was going to apologize, but I don’t really know…” Keith trailed off, hoping Shiro would understand.

“You should definitely start by apologizing,” Shiro agreed. 

“‘Sorry I’m jealous of people I’m not dating,’” Keith said in a high-pitched voice, rolling his eyes.

“Surprised your voice didn’t crack there.”

Keith glared at him. “Shut up, Takashi. I’m going through a  _ dilemma _ .”

“Just do what Pidge said and the next time you guys have relative privacy, tell him. But don’t do it in a class or something. Cause if it gets awkward… and I mean, I seriously doubt it will, but it  _ might _ , but like I said, slim chance. You don’t want to be with him for another 40 minutes after.”

“Okay. That’s a good idea,” Keith said. He turned around and saw the couch. There were pillows on the floor. “Oh, shit. I forgot to clean that up.”

“Why’d you sleep on the couch?”

“I didn’t.”

“So who did?” Something in Shiro’s tone told Keith he already knew.

“Uh,” Keith said, clearing his throat and walking over to the pillows. “Lance?”

“Why?”

“Well, it started when he called me at 1 in the morning…”

____________________________________________

  
Keith rubbed his hands together quickly and took a deep breath before walking into Chemistry. Now that the AP test was over, Mrs. Stoll just played movies and let them do what they wanted. “I know other teachers are still assigning things, so consider this a free period,” she said.

Lance didn’t say anything when he sat down next to him. Keith cleared his throat nervously. “Lance.”

“Hm?” Lance looked at him, seemingly disinterested. His eyes quickly flitted back to the screen.

“Listen,” he said, and he was suddenly glad that no one sat close to them. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? You didn’t do anything.” He kept looking straightforward. 

“Yes, I did,” Keith said insistently, but he frowned. Why was Lance acting like this? “And you deserve an apology. I blew up. I shouldn’t have.”

Keith felt like he was going to start sweating. He felt anxiety and adrenaline pulse through his veins. Lance waited a moment and then said, “Thanks, Keith. But it’s really not a big deal. Sometimes you just don’t like people.”

“I just wanted you to know I was sorry,” Keith muttered. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. “Is there practice today?” He asked, in hopes of starting a conversation.

Lance tapped his pencil and finally turned his head to look at Keith. “Yeah, it’s Monday. Why wouldn’t there be?”

“I just wanted to make sure,” Keith said. “You know. What if there wasn’t?”

Lance scoffed, but he looked like he was trying not to smile. “Are you serious? Keith, you’ve gone to how many practices now?”

“Sorry,” Keith said, half-smiling. At least Lance was talking to him. 

“You’re saying that too much today,” Lance said. “If you say it again you’re off the team.”

“Bold words from someone who had to convince me to even try out,” Keith teased. 

“Shut up,” Lance said, but now he was bubbling up with laughter and Keith flushed with pride. He’d successfully apologized, and gotten Lance to laugh,  _ and _ he felt better about their relationship.

He sent Pidge a text.  _ Never mind! :) _

He could almost see her rolling her eyes.

_____________________________________-

  
The end of the day came a lot faster than Keith anticipated.

Lance was talking to him about something he wasn’t really paying attention to in English when the bell rang and Lance said, “I had to take the bus to school this morning, so I’ve got to bus home again, too.”

“I drove the car today,” Keith said. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for me to drive you home. Got to make up for that shitshow last time, right?”

Lance cracked a smile. “Right. That shitshow. Yeah, I guess. Thanks, Keith.” He looked away.

They walked to the gym hallway together, but Keith said he had to go talk to Mrs. Alfie about prom. He dipped into her classroom just as she stood up from her desk. 

“Oh, Keith!” She looked surprised. “I haven’t seen you after school in a while. How have you been?”

“Fine,” Keith said. “Thanks. You?”

“Just fine. School’s ending soon, right?” She winked and put her phone in her purse. “What brings you in here?”

“Question about prom,” Keith began, and she laughed.

“I sent you that email two weeks ago. Have you not been checking it?”

Keith closed his mouth. “I guess not. Sorry. But, um, do I have to buy a prom ticket to go?”

“No,” Mrs. Alfie said, shaking her head. “I asked you a couple months back if you wanted to cover prom. You said sure. I know you’re a senior, though. If you want to go to prom with an actual date, I’m sure Shay or Plaxum-”

“No, no, that’s not why I was asking,” Keith rushed, heat on his cheeks. “I just wanted to know if I had to spend eighty dollars on taking pictures.”

“Rest assured, you do not,” Mrs. Alfie said. “Was that all?”

“Yeah,” Keith said, and then he took two steps backwards before turning around. “Um, bye, Mrs. Alfie!”

“Bye, Keith,” she said, and she walked in the other direction towards the teachers’ parking lot. 

Lance spent the whole practicing doing team drills and talking about how great everyone did against Galra. Keith couldn’t help it; he had a stupid grin plastered on his face the whole time. Lance was sweaty and gross and he was smiling. Keith thought he looked the best he’d ever been. Keith spent most of his time doing drills with Olia, Swirn, and Lance.

It was when Lance was dressed and asking Keith if he was still getting a ride that his heart jumped to his throat. 

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Lance said. “I figured I should ask.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“I definitely would’ve told you before now,” Keith said. He walked with him to the student parking lot. “Hey, why’d you take the bus, anyway?” Any normal conversation before he lost his nerve.  _ You have to. You have to tell him. Pidge said she thought he felt the same, right? When has Pidge been wrong? And he’s not a total dick, he wouldn’t act weird afterwards, you just have to tell him…  _

“Oh. My mom won’t give me any gas money until Friday, so I need to save it up,” Lance said. “I’ve only got one or two more trips in my car. Plus, saving the environment, you know?”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed. “Kind of ironic, since  _ I _ drove, but I  _ totally _ know.”

Lance flipped on the radio and started humming along. It was a habit of his that Keith loved about him. They drove in what Keith thought was comfortable silence until he was only two minutes away from Lance’s.

“So,” Keith started, “I know you’re still upset about the Nyma thing.”

“Keith-” Lance groaned, and he looked out the window. “I  _ said _ it was fine.”

“Just let me finish,” Keith said, and he started drumming his fingers on the wheel. Was this safe? He felt like he was going to pass out. He had never done this before.  _ First time for everything! _ He thought, then said, “I didn’t like her because I was really… I mean. I was-” He ground his teeth in frustration.  _ Say it. _ “I was sort of, um, j-jealous.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lance’s head turn towards him. He employed the same tactic Lance had used in fourth period and looked straight ahead. “Uh, Keith… aren’t you gay?”

His voice was slightly wobbly. Lance wasn’t  _ stupid _ . Maybe he just didn’t want to say it out loud. “Lance. I wasn’t- listen. I wasn’t jealous of  _ you _ .”

“You were jealous of Nyma?”

Keith pretended to look at the emergency brake, which was conveniently in the opposite direction of Lance. “Yeah.” His heart was beating so fast he was lightheaded. He sped up just so the drive would be over thirty seconds sooner. “I was.”

Lance didn’t say anything for a moment. Then- “Can you like, spell out what you’re trying to say? I’m not the best with implications.”

Which was a lie. But Keith knew what wanting a clear cut answer felt like. Besides, it wasn’t like the situation could get any worse. “ _ Lance _ ,” he said, forcing the word out like it physically pained him. He tried to soften his voice so it didn’t sound as much like a growl. “I like you.”

He slowed to a stop in front of the McClains’. He leaned his arm against the window so his neck rested on his palm. He could feel how bad he was blushing. Lance said, “Wait, what?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” Keith said, practically begging. 

“Do you mean like, romantically?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Keith bit. He glared at Lance, only to realize Lance was blushing too, and looked shocked. “I thought you  _ knew _ .”

“I thought  _ you _ knew!” Lance said incredulously. “I- Keith, I  _ said _ so! Drunk!”

“Yeah,  _ drunk- _ wait. You fucking  _ remembered _ ?”

“Of course I did,” Lance snapped. “I don’t black out, Keith! I told you that!”

“Why did you act like you  _ didn’t _ ?”

“Because I like  _ you, _ too, dumbass!”

For a moment, it was silent. Keith swallowed. “Really?”

Lance rolled his eyes and sank back into his seat. “Yes. I  _ said _ so. In the car.”

“I didn’t know if you were serious or if you were just drunk!”

“Keith! I- jeez, this is a lot harder to say twice than I thought. But are you- you’re being serious, right?”

“Do you think I’m not?”

Silence. “So,” Lance said conversationally, “What do we do now?”

“I dunno,” Keith said, shrugging, but he was still pink. “I mean like, I’ve never done this sort of thing before, so.  _ You’re _ the expert here.”

“There’s a first.”

“I can’t believe Pidge was right,” Keith said, leaning back. It felt like a load off his mind.  _ When has Pidge ever been wrong? _ Well, plenty of times. But not a lot.

“Pidge was right about  _ what _ ?” Lance asked sharply. He eyes were suddenly very narrow.

“She told me that she thought you… well, I was venting to her, and she said that maybe I wasn’t, like. You know. Unreciprocated.”

“She told you that I liked you?”

“She said she  _ thought _ so,” Keith asked, but he was still lost. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I  _ told _ her that!”

_ “What?” _ Keith’s back straightened.

“I told Pidge that I wanted you more than I even wanted Nyma and even though I  _ swore _ her to secrecy, it  _ obviously _ didn’t work-”

“You like me more than Nyma?” 

“Is that really the only thing you’re focused on right now?”

“I mean, yeah,” Keith said, but he had the decency to be a little sheepish. “Did she say anything to you about- about me?”

“No,” Lance said, and he sounded a little bitter. “When I finally admitted it to her, she just looked mad. Then she called me a dumbass and I agreed with her. I thought it was because she knew  _ I _ was the unreciprocated one.”

“Look on the bright side,” Keith said. “If she hadn’t said anything yesterday, I wouldn’t have said anything today. And she didn’t really sell you out, she said she was basing everything on exactly what I had told her.”

“Yeah, but you know she wasn’t.”

“But I didn’t know back then,” Keith reminded him. “Hey, this is a  _ good _ thing, right? Now Pidge doesn’t have to tiptoe around it. We can just tell her.”

“Hunk probably knows, too.”

“Why would Hunk know?”

“Cause I told Hunk before I told Pidge, and I love Hunk, but he is a total gossip.” Lance rolled his eyes. “They’ve probably both known for weeks.”

_ “Weeks?” _ Keith couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Hang on. How long have you… you know?”

“I mean, probably a lot longer than I thought,” Lance admitted, grinning nervously. “But it really sunk in during the first soccer game. Against Olkarian. It just- I don’t know, it just hit me really suddenly and full force.”

“Oh my god,” Keith said, covering his mouth with his hand. “That’s why you were so weird the next week.”

“Yes, and I thought you were weirded out because I was too obvious!”

“I thought  _ you _ were weirded out because  _ I _ was obvious! I mean, Lance, you asked me how my  _ romantic life _ was going!”

“I was  _ trying _ to figure out if you had a secret boyfriend!”

They both broke into nervous laughter. Neither of them had stopped blushing. Lance rubbed the back of his neck. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Keith said, smiling softly. “See you tomorrow.”

Lance gave a small wave, opened the car door, and jogged into his house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> confessions :')


	17. On Top of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Top of the World by Imagine Dragons: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w5tWYmIOWGk

_ “Shiro!” _ Keith went to the gym before coming home, so it was already after 6.

“What?” He sounded annoyed. He turned his head to look over the couch. 

Keith dropped his keys on the counter and grinned like an idiot. “Shiro, you’re not going to fucking  _ believe _ this-”

“Is it Lance?”

Keith laughed shortly. “I- yeah. It’s Lance.”

“Oh?” Shiro smirked and sat up, resting his forearms on the back of the couch so he could fully face Keith. “So, tell me. What happened?”

“I-” Keith flushed. He was so  _ excited _ about it- he felt  _ immature _ , almost, maybe a little stupid. “Well, I mean… it’s not  _ that _ big of a deal…” Except that it was, because this was the first time Keith had a romantic relationship, and now he was moving too fast, a  _ relationship _ ? Would Lance think he was  _ clingy- _ ?

“Don’t do that,” Shiro said sharply, standing up and walking towards the kitchen. “Don’t just- don’t play it off. Can’t you just let yourself enjoy something?”

“I’m not-!” Keith objects, but Shiro cuts him off.

“No, you do this all the time. You don’t have to keep up a stony exterior, you know. Just tell me about Lance.”

They’re facing each other across the counter. “Well,” Keith starts hesitantly, and then he starts talking. “I- I told him.”

“ _ You _ told  _ him _ ?” Shiro’s eyebrows shot up.

“I mean,” Keith said, blushing, “yeah? Pidge said it was a good idea. She told me it would kill me if I didn’t, and I guess it just sunk in that she was right. Except she also said that she thought he felt the same way, which in retrospect, she probably knew he did, so maybe he talked to her about it? Anyway, I told him when I was dropping him off at home after practice-”

“Today?”

“Yes, today!” Keith grinned. “And- oh, god, Shiro, it was so embarrassing, but I’m really glad it’s over, I mean- he said- he said he thought  _ I _ knew, so I was all awkward in April, but I thought the opposite about  _ him _ , so it was just- I mean,  _ funny _ , in retrospect, but  _ really _ embarrassing.”

“What I’m hearing is,” Shiro said, sitting on the stool, “that Lance just  _ happens _ to feel the same way about you.”

“Yes,” Keith answered firmly. 

“Hm,” Shiro said. “This is ‘Pretty Boy Lancey Lance,’ right?”

“Fuck you, Takashit,” Keith snorted after a burst of laughter. “Yeah, that’s the only Lance around for miles.”

“Well, I have to leave for the night shift soon,” Shiro said, standing up. “I went grocery shopping today. Don’t be a pig. No boys.”

He gave his signature shit-eating grin and a two-finger salute before walking out the door. 

_________________________________

  
Lance really put his heart into it when he was passionate about something. 

“I can actually say the things I think instead of keeping my mouth shut,” he said, tilting the camera so he was more in the frame. “It’s a relief for me. You better get your shit together, Kogane, cause I’m coming for you.”

Keith swallowed a spoonful of Cinnamon Toast Crunch (courtesy of Shiro’s grocery trip). “Are you going to be all PDA and shit?”

“Keith, PDA is my middle  _ name _ .”

“Absolutely abhorrent,” Keith said, shaking his head and laughing. “But isn’t it weird? Everyone can see you, you know.”

“Yeah, they can see that I’m the one who gets to hold your hand.”

Keith turned up the volume on FaceTime. “You’ve got that backwards, buddy. They’re gonna see that  _ I’m _ the one who gets to hold  _ your _ hand. Do you know how many people hopelessly pine after you?”

“I’m guessing at least one,” Lance said, smirking.

“Shut up!” Keith flushed. “Probably like, fifteen. This year. At least. And that’s rounding down. You’re popular and attractive.”

“Did it kill you to admit that?”

“Just a little, since I know your ego doesn’t need any more inflating,” Keith shot back, twirling his spoon. 

“My ego has been  _ way _ up there since I found out I caught  _ your _ attention. You know how attractive someone has to be to get you to notice them?”

“At least an eleven out of ten,” Keith said, looking straight at Lance. 

Lance paused for a moment, mouth slightly open, and then he turned pink. “Are you  _ flirting _ with me?”

“Was it really that bad?” Keith looked down at his bowl and ate another bite. 

_ “No!”  _ Lance reached forward and grabbed his phone, holding it so his face took up the entire screen. “No, it was cute.”

Keith burned. “Don’t call me  _ cute _ !” He hissed, glancing over his shoulder as if Shiro was home, despite the fact that he was at work. “I’m not cute. At least say, like, I don’t know… something.” He gave a weak smile.

“Like what?” Lance teased, setting the phone back down. He was strumming a guitar in his room. “Hot? Beautiful? Handsome? Attractive?”

_ “Stop!” _ Keith dropped his spoon and covered his face with his hands, but Lance knew he was blushing anyway. 

“Keith, I’m not sorry, and I will never,  _ ever _ stop complimenting you. Especially if you react like  _ that _ . You’re  _ blushing _ ! Do you know how cute that is?” Lance held a chord and leaned forward. “You’re gonna make PDA the best!”

“You’re so embarrassing, you know that?” Keith scooped out the last of his cereal and stood up to put his bowl in the dishwasher. “Pidge will probably vomit within the first five minutes of lunch tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to text Hunk,” Lance said thoughtfully, and his fingers started strumming absentmindedly. “Oh, well. I mean, they’ll figure it out tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” Keith said, sitting back down. “You know, I kind of want to wait for them to figure it out. With you doing all your PDA shit, I’m sure it won’t be long.”

“Mullet,  _ you’d _ be the one to sell us out,” Lance said, stretching his leg. 

“Are you joking?” Keith objected, jaw dropping. “You’re going on about how you’re gonna- I don’t even know what, hold my hand and tell me pick-up lines?”

“Of course,” Lance said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But  _ your _ blushing is what’s really gonna give it away.”

“No, it’s not!”

“Come on, Mullet,” Lance said, eyes twinkling. “Just admit it. Tomorrow, you’ll see, but I can save you the embarrassment now.”

“Die,” Keith said, glaring. “You’re going to say three  _ words _ and Pidge is going to know-”

“She  _ so _ is not!”

“-and Hunk will know immediately because he just  _ knows _ you so well!”

“You’re going to eat your words tomorrow,” Lance said, and he started playing the guitar again. Keith was overwhelmed with a sudden feeling of domesticity. It felt nice. He was comfortably talking to Lance, teasing him, being teased. Nothing had really changed except that now their relationship was romantic, too. 

“I’m sure,” Keith said. He talked to Lance until 11 at night, when he insisted he needed sleep in order to kick Lance’s ass at not selling them out.

____________________________________

  
“Hey, Keith!” Keith stopped walking and turned around. He didn’t want to be late, but he smiled when he saw it was Lance. 

“Hey, Lance,” Keith said. 

Lance laughed and smiled. “Listen,” he said, resting his arm on Keith’s shoulder, “I know we have English together, but I think we also have some chemistry.”

Lance grinned like he was  _ so _ damn proud of himself. Keith felt his brain stutter, and not wanting to make a complete fool of himself like some lovesick idiot, he turned to look at Lance’s arm and picked it up, dropping it off his shoulder. “You’re being very forward.”

Lance’s smile dropped. “I mean- is that okay? It is, right? Or is it- are you uncomfortable-?”

“Lance,” Keith said, tone dropping, putting his hands on Lance’s shoulders. He said very seriously, “The only reason I’d be uncomfortable is because I’ve never, ever been given affection like that publicly. No matter how much I brush off what you say, I will always love it.” He smirked. “But it’s going to tip off Pidge right away.”

Lance blinked, and the grin was back. “She’s not. You’re still the obvious one, so get ready, because I’ve got a lot more pickup lines than that. That was a teaser. So, chemistry? What’d you think?”

“We already have chemistry together.”

The late bell rang. Lance stared. “God,” Lance said. “You  _ had _ to have gotten the joke. Did you get it?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Of  _ course _ I got it. Now we’re late to Chemistry. And we already  _ have _ chemistry,” he added meaningfully.

“I totally took your breath away with that pickup line,” Lance said, standing straight and smiling, self-satisfied.

Keith, determined to outdo him, grinned and stood up on his tiptoes. “Come on, Lover Boy,” he whispered in Lance’s ear. “Can’t be  _ too _ late.”

He started walking and his smile stretched even wider when he heard Lance start walking quickly after him. “H-hey!” Lance protested. “You can’t just  _ do _ that!”

“Do unto others as you’d do unto yourself, Lancey Lance,” Keith teased. “What, can you not handle a taste of your own medicine?”

“I’m gonna get you back,” Lance promised, going into the room, where Mrs. Stoll already had  _ The Road to El Dorado _ playing. “Oh, shit! I actually like this movie, so we’re gonna have to cut back on the conversation.”

“You know, I have a theory,” Keith said quietly as they sat down. 

“Which is?” Lance smiled endearingly, like he was entertaining Keith.

“Don’t be a dick,” he said. “I have a theory. Maybe a hypothesis. I think you’re all bark and no bite. I’ve got a whole scientific experiment set up, too. I kinda want to test it.”

“Test it how?”

“See, it’s easy. I flirt with you a bunch and see how you react. You lose when you get all flustered.”

“You say when as if it’s guaranteed you will.”

“Are you saying it’s not?”

“I could easily make you more flustered.”

“Really?” Keith arched a brow. “Care to make a bet out of that?”

“You’re on, Mullet,” Lance scoffed. “Get ready to blush your way into the fourth dimension. If one of us is all bark and no bite, it’s  _ you _ .”

“That was cute,” Keith commented, and he felt pleased when he saw Lance flush out of the corner of his eye. “So what’s that now?  _ Two _ bets you’re going to lose?”

“You are  _ so _ asking for it,” Lance said, flicking Keith’s shoulder.

Because he wanted to make Lance happy, he stayed quiet, so they could watch the movie. They walked into the computer lab, Keith snorting at something Lance said, and Lance with his arms in the air, dramatically re-enacting whatever story he was telling Keith. 

Lance was still prattling on when they sat down. He stopped, looked at all three of them in turn, and said, “Did you guys know Keith is a camera?”

“What?” Pidge couldn’t have looked more lost. 

“It’s because every time I look at him,” Lance said, and he turned his head to look back at Keith, “I have to smile.”

Keith snorted, but he knew that if Lance kept going, he’d get even more flustered. “Well, you’re a magician. Every time I look at you, everyone else disappears.”

Lance laughed. “That was so  _ bad _ , Keith, Christ! Where did you learn  _ that _ one?”

“Google,” Keith said, smiling a little sheepishly. 

“What is going  _ on _ ?” Pidge burst, looking between the two. Hunk looked lost, but not surprised. “Keith, did you-? Did you do what I said?” She almost sounded like she didn’t even believe he would have.

“Yes, he  _ did _ , and I learned something  _ very _ interesting after the fact,” Lance said, swiveling his seat to face Pidge. 

“What?” Pidge asked, frowning. She seemed a little taken back by the fact that Keith had actually said something to Lance.

“You told him!” He accused, jabbing a finger at her. “Even though you said you  _ wouldn’t _ !”

“Are you serious?” Pidge made a face. “If I hadn’t  _ implied _ anything- did Keith tell you that? I said I didn’t know and I never  _ explicitly _ told him you liked him. But if I  _ hadn’t _ said anything, this wouldn’t have happened! You wouldn’t be- you wouldn’t be blatantly  _ flirting _ with each other like the world’s most public couple!”

“Right, but I still feel betrayed,” Lance said, crossing his arms. 

“Lance,” Hunk said, “you totally owe her. I know you, and I’ve gotten to know Keith pretty well. Neither of you were going to say  _ shit _ without a little nudge.”

Hunk was probably the calmest out of all of them. Pidge threw her arm out and gestured to Keith. “Look at him! He’s red! You turned him into a  _ fire hydrant _ , thanks to me  _ implying _ you liked him! It wasn’t even really an  _ implication _ , it was a  _ suggestion- _ ”

“Oh my god, shut  _ up _ !” Keith said, flustered all over again. “You did it, Pidge! Can we please not talk about all that embarrassing stuff?”

“Oh, big no no,” Lance said, looking at Keith again. “You’re definitely telling me every single embarrassing detail of your life. I look forward to it.”

“You can start with March,” Pidge said flatly. “ _ Lots _ of good material there.”

“You’ve liked me  _ that _ long?” Lance asked, slightly incredulous.

_ “Pidge!” _ Keith was mortified.

“Now  _ you’re _ the one turning him into a fire hydrant,” Hunk said dryly. “But just with regular embarrassment, not cute and flirty embarrassment.”

“I hate all of you,” Keith said.

“Even me?” Lance asked.

Keith considered him for a moment. “No,” he said decidedly. Lance lit up for half a second before Keith continued. “I only strongly dislike you.”

“Ass,” Lance said, swatting his arm lightly.

“If I have to listen to you two flirt like this every day, I’m going to scream,” Pidge said.

“Shut up, Pidge,” Lance said, glaring at her and flushing. “You better get used to it really,  _ really _ fast. This is your fault, after all, remember?”

“Honestly, man, I’m with her,” Hunk said. “I know I don’t have an iron stomach anyway, but I almost threw up three times this whole conversation.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Keith noted.

“It’s an  _ us _ problem,” Pidge interjected.

“You should work on resolving that,” Lance said, and he scooted back his chair so he was next to Keith. “I don’t think it’s healthy to keep things bottled up.”

Pidge said a few explicit words before giving up.

___________________________________

  
“So, today’s scheduled as a jogging day.”

“Fuck,” Swirn said. He looked at his car longingly. “I should’ve skipped today.”

Te’Osh made a face. “Can’t we do like, literally anything else?”

“Jogging doesn’t even take up the whole practice,” Lance protested. “We go around the track ten times to build endurance, stamina… and  _ character _ . So get started!”

A few people (underclassmen) gave up and started towards the track. Lance waved his arm at the upperclassmen who were still refusing.

Keith clicked his tongue. “Nope. I don’t think so.”

“Are you opting out because you know I’m faster?” Lance arched an eyebrow.

“No,” Keith said, crossing his arms. “I just don’t want to jog. At all.”

“Come on. I know you didn’t go to the gym yesterday. I’ll race you,” Lance said, tugging Keith’s forearm. 

“Actually, I  _ did _ go to the gym yesterday, and anyway, I can list at least thirty things I’d rather do off the top of my head,” Keith said, refusing to budge. “I am _not_ jogging.”

Lance sighed. “I didn’t want it to come to this.” He stepped forward, so close that Keith momentarily panicked and thought he was going to kiss him, which,  _ when did they talk about that, were they going to, was that just a thing people did? _ Instead, he leaned down a little and whispered in Keith’s ear, “I just needed an excuse to get this close to your face.”

With that, he kissed Keith on the cheek. 

Keith knew what he looked like. His mouth was slightly open, his eyebrows shot high with surprise. Of all the things Lance might’ve done, he didn’t expect that. He also knew he was flushed all the way to his chest, because Lance started laughing. “So are you gonna jog or no? The sooner we start, the sooner we finish!”

“Fine,” Keith said, dropping his arms in defeat. They were on the track when he said, “But don’t think you’re gonna beat me anyway.”

Of course Lance ended up beating him.

______________________________________

 

“We have to go on a real people date, you know,” Lance said, throwing his bag in the backseat of the car. 

“A real people date?” Keith buckled his seat belt.

“Yeah,” Lance said, turning the ignition. “Like, out somewhere, you know? Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?”

“I guess,” Keith said, but he felt a smile playing at his lips. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Lance frowned. “I mean, yeah?”

“You have to say it,” Keith said. “I don’t know exactly what you mean. So you have to tell me, very clearly, what you’re asking.”

“Keith Kogane,” Lance said, turning in his seat to grasp Keith’s left hand in both of his. He smirked when Keith flushed. “I, Leandro McClain, would like to go on a real people date with you, Keith Kogane.”

Keith’s brain short-circuited. Lance was looking at him  _ so _ intensely, and his hands were really warm- “Your real name is Leandro?” Keith was mortified when he heard how high-pitched his voice was.

“Did you not know that?” Lance’s romantic expression turned confused.

“I-  _ no _ ! Why would I know that? No one calls you Leandro!”

“Well,  _ duh _ , seeing as Lance is my nickname. So, is that a yes?” Lance wiggled his eyebrows and started reversing out of the parking spot. 

“It would’ve been so perfect if you hadn’t said real people. Something about it killed the mood.”

“But is it a yes?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Keith said. “It’s just that you weren’t very romantic about it.”

“I am  _ so _ romantic!” Lance sounded offended. “Just you wait for this date. I’m gonna romance your socks off.”

“Poetic,” Keith said dryly in an attempt to hide how flustered he was.

“I do try,” Lance said.

Keith’s mind was running a million miles an hour, scrambling to think of something that would fluster Lance. “You’re really hot,” he said, about three seconds before he realized what he’d just said. 

Lance chuckled nervously. “Uh, thanks, Keith? You’re, um- you, too.” He kept his eyes on the road, but Keith knew he was avoided looking at him.

Keith was satisfied with that. 

__________________________________________________

  
“So, when’s our date?”

“I’m thinking Thursday or Friday night,” Lance said. He was cleaning his room. Keith was leaning against his wall, doing his homework. 

“Why were you thinking Thursday?”

Lance walked over to his phone and turned up the volume. “Sorry, it’s hard to hear you from over there. What did you say?”

“Why Thursday?” Keith repeated, pausing in the middle of writing his sentence.

“Oh, cause I’m impatient,” Lance said, shrugging and smiling. “But Friday will give me more time to render you speechless.”

“With romance?”

“With romance,” Lance confirmed. “See, you’re going to be head over heels by the end of the night, but it’ll be much faster if I plan it for Friday.”

“I think you’re overestimating yourself.”

“You’re underestimating me,” Lance said. “I can totally do it. Just you wait!”

“So when are you going to tell me when it is?”

“Whenever I figure it out, which could be ten minutes before it starts,” Lance admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t worry, though! It’s still gonna be super romantic!”

“Really, Lance, I can’t wait-”

“Are you mocking me?”

Keith smiled despite himself. “Just a little.”

They talked until Keith finished his homework and was too exhausted to stay awake.

_________________________________________

  
Lance drove Keith home from soccer practice. Everyone had apparently thought they were dating- which, sure, they were? But they hadn’t gone on a date yet, and Keith was slightly embarrassed by the fact that whenever they flirted, everyone else knew they were flirting, too. 

It was a good thing Lance got just as flustered as he did, or it’d be a lot worse. 

He waved at Lance and closed the door behind him, dropping his backpack on the ground and walking into the kitchen. He pulled a granola bar from the pantry, looked past the counter, and froze.

“What the fuck?”

In the living room, lying behind the couch, was a black dog. 

“Shiro?” Keith said, then again, louder: “Shiro!”

“What?” Shiro came out of the bathroom that was under the stairs and followed Keith’s line of sight. “Oh. Um. Listen, before you freak out-”

“I’m not freaking out.”

“-I’m fostering a dog.”

“You’re  _ what _ ?”

“I’m fostering a dog,” Shiro repeated, gesturing. “He’s been in the shelter for over a year. It’s a no-kill shelter, so they were holding on to the hope he would get adopted, but no one wanted him because he’s big, a black dog, and not a puppy,  _ and _ he’s a mutt, not a purebreed.”

“People don’t like black cats, Shiro, not black dogs. And mutts are better anyway.”

“Not as a superstition,” Shiro said. “People just tend to prefer dogs that have a lot of colors and lighter colors. Anyway, Allura just adopted a dog from there, which is why I knew about it. She told me that the place ran on volunteers and donations.” He hesitated. “So now I volunteer there.”

“And you adopted a dog,” Keith said. “A whole dog. A whole, big dog.”

“His name is Monty,” Shiro said.

At the sound of his name, Monty lifted his head up. “What’s he mixed with, anyway? Did the shelter know?”

“He was a stray before they picked him up,” Shiro explained. “They think he’s part Tibetan Mastiff and Keeshond. One of them said he wouldn’t be surprised if he was part Bernese mountain or Alaskan… Alaskan Malamute, I think, because he’s just so naturally friendly. And he’s  _ smart _ , Keith, he’s really smart!”

“And big,” Keith noted, seeing that the dog looked like he could easily be 60 to 80 pounds.

“They think he’s four or five,” Shiro said. “Like I said. Stray. So they had to guess.”

“So all those times I asked if we could get a dog, and you get one without even warning me?” Keith grinned and walked around to the living room. Monty had stood up and his tail was wagging lightly. Keith scratched under his chin and Monty’s tongue lolled out. 

Keith remembered all the websites that told him not to pet on top of a dog’s head because they might feel threatened by it coming from above them, like you were about to hit them. He also remembered that he was Googling all those things because he was desperately hoping his parents would get a dog.

Keith swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. Of all the things that could have happened today, he didn’t expect to be hit with a sudden wave of grief and nostalgia, from before it was only him and Takashi.

“Well, I like him,” Keith said, smiling at Shiro. Then he quickly went up the stairs and closed his door quietly, eyes burning and chest aching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just some random angst but dont worry its not here to stay. all fluff from here on out


	18. Suit and Jacket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suit and Jacket by Judah & the Lion: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AigOUsOEhSY
> 
> PROM!

He was angry at himself for getting so worked up over a dog. 

He texted Lance and told him he couldn’t talk tonight, but he couldn’t think of a reason not to that didn’t sound stupid, so he didn’t elaborate. Lance just texted him  _ goodnight <3 _ and didn’t pester him, which Keith was grateful for. 

__________________________________________

  
Pidge was ecstatic about the fact that Shiro got a dog. “I’m coming over to see him today,” Pidge declared. 

“What’s his name again?” Hunk asked, leaning forward on the table. 

“Monty,” Keith answered, and he passed around his phone, which had a picture of him that Shiro had taken that morning before he went to class. “Shiro’s head over heels for him.”

Hunk clasped his hands together. “I have more good news.”

“Yeah?” Lance asked, looking up. 

“I’ve gone on a couple other dates with Shay,” Hunk started, and he blushed. “I didn’t tell you guys cause I was nervous about it. But yesterday, I was gonna ask her to prom, but then she asked me!”

“Shay asked you to go to prom?” Pidge asked in disbelief. 

“You went on dates without telling us?” Lance squawked.

“Yeah,” Hunk admitted. “And of course I said yes, so now I have a prom date! With  _ Shay _ !”

“You say that like it’s a surprise,” Pidge deadpanned. “You were pretty much dating after she came to your house that time.”

“Oh shit,” Lance said, tapping his cheek. “So that’s what I forgot to do.”

It took a moment to sink in. “Are you fucking joking?” Keith asked. “I have to take yearbook photos at prom, Lance. You’d be bored and have to watch me take pictures.”

“You can take breaks,” Lance said dismissively, handing Keith his phone. “Anyway, Keith, do you want to go to prom with me?”

“I’m  _ really _ feeling the romance,” Keith said.

“God, you’re right,” Lance said, and he stood up to get down on one knee and hold Keith’s hand. “Keith Kogane-”

“Not this again,” Keith groaned, covering his face with his free hand. 

“-will you go to prom with me, Leandro McClain?”

“What a cute promposal,” Pidge said flatly, chin resting on her palm. 

“Of course I will,” Keith said, throat dry. 

“Flustered?” Lance smirked. 

Keith took a moment to respond. “I only get flustered when cute boys ask me on dates,  _ Leandro _ .” He smirked back. 

Lance flushed. “Cute, huh?” His voice was unsteady. Keith smirked.

“Can you guys stop trying to act like you’re not flustered while trying to fluster each other?” Pidge asked. “You should really be more considerate of the other people in this room.”

“Seconded,” Hunk chimed in.

“If you keep shaming us, you don’t get to meet Monty,” Keith threatened. 

“There’s soccer practice after school, anyway,” Lance said. “So you’d either have to stay here until 4 or walk home.”

“We could skip practice,” Keith suggested.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause today is another jogging day,” Lance accused, crossing his arms. 

“No, I wouldn’t want to go anyway,” Keith said. Pause. He admitted, “But yeah, the fact that it’s a jogging day really pushed me to it.”

“Jogging isn’t that awful,” Lance protested. “You just have shit stamina!”

“Speak for yourself,” Keith retorted. “I hate it.”

“You’re just upset I beat you every time,” Lance sighed. “It’s okay, Keith. I don’t blame you.”

Keith punched his shoulder (not very hard) and pouted. “That’s not why. I just hate jogging.”

“It’s  _ okay _ , Keith! I still like you, even if you’re really slow-”

“Shut  _ up- _ ”

Pidge started gagging and making retching sounds under the table.

___________________________________________________________

  
Monty was on the couch when Keith got home.

The other three had come with him to meet the dog. Pidge had come with Hunk because neither of them wanted to wait for their practice to be over (Lance had beaten Keith, which came as a surprise to no one). 

From what Keith had seen, Monty never barked. Sometimes he did the  _ boof _ when he was looking out the kitchen’s little bay window and saw another dog or a squirrel, but he had never barked any louder than that.

Keith swore he  _ smiled _ \- his tongue was always rolling out and his lips pulled back behind his teeth when he was being pet, so he really looked like he was just beaming. His ears stood up on their own (which was Pidge’s favorite thing about him) and he always tilted his head into the hand that was petting him.

He got a text from Shiro telling him to feed Monty. He spent ten minutes looking for the dog food before realizing it was at the bottom of the pantry.

Hunk and Lance fell in love with Monty. They went outside for an hour and then Pidge and Hunk left in Hunk’s car. Lance stayed with Keith. Casually, Lance said, “I’m gonna drive you to prom on Friday, okay?”

Lance had sprawled on the couch with Monty lying on top of him, absentmindedly scratching his shoulders and back. Monty’s head was resting on Lance’s chest, his nose an inch away from Lance’s chin. Keith was in the recliner.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Keith said. “Should I dress to the nines?”

“It’s prom,” Lance said flatly. “Of course you should. You only get one prom, Keith!”

“Figured you’d be the type to love prom,” Keith said, grinning.

“Is something wrong with that?”

Keith just chuckled. “Not a thing.”

______________________________________________________________

  
Lance ended up calling his mom to let her know he was staying at Keith’s that night. After swearing up and down that they weren’t sleeping in the same bed (she was much stricter now that she knew they were romantically involved), they went upstairs and got into Keith’s bed. Keith let him shower and borrow a change of clothes and he changed in the bathroom. When came out, he said, “I can’t believe you don’t use any face wash.”

“I wash my face,” Keith said defensively. “Just for much cheaper than you obviously do.”

“What do you use?”

“Soap and tap water.”

“Christ,” Lance said, shaking his head. “How do you not have acne?”

“Genes, I guess,” Keith said, shrugging. “But it used to be pretty bad. I don’t think my forehead was smooth from seventh grade to tenth grade. My back was pretty gross, too.”

“My back used to be disgusting,” Lance admitted, flipping over and rubbing the towel all over his hair. “My chest wasn’t ever that terrible, though.”

“Did you ever have braces?”

“Only for a year,” Lance said. “My teeth were pretty good already, but one was crooked and gonna mess up my jaw or something. Did you?”

“For like, three years,” Keith said, leaning back on the wall. “My teeth were twelve types of crooked when I was a kid.”

“Yikes,” Lance said. He sat down on the bed and scooted under the covers. “Must’ve been expensive. Can you move? I barely have any room.”

“Sorry,” Keith muttered, and he shifted over a couple inches. “Just a warning, I think I’m a bed hog. Really bad at sharing sheets.”

“I used to have huge sleepovers with my siblings and cousins, so I learned how to take up very little space when I was a kid. They were fun, don’t get me wrong, but jeez, they were  _ cramped _ .”

They talked a lot about their childhoods, Keith describing some of his foster families and Lance telling Keith about his siblings. He wasn’t sure when they fell asleep, but when he woke up, he knew he was right- he was a bed hog.

__________________________________________________

  
He walked downstairs to start making coffee and was only mildly surprised to see Shiro. “Hey,” he said, yawning.

“How was your sleepover?”

Keith froze. “My what?”

“Your sleepover,” Shiro repeated. “Do I have to give you the talk? Is that my job now? Is it  _ necessary _ ? Don’t make me do it, Keith.”

“I-” Keith went scarlet. “We just slept together!” He groaned when Shiro made  _ the _ face. “I mean, literally  _ slept _ . Nothing… we didn’t do anything. So, no talk is necessary.”

“Oh, good,” Shiro said. “Your door wasn’t closed and Monty was lying in the doorframe, so I went to close it, and then I see someone who looks suspiciously not like you in your bed.”

“Yeah, I pushed him to the edge by accident,” Keith muttered. “I’m a bed hog.”

“Well, I walked a little closer, and suddenly, I recognize  _ Lancey Lance. _ The guy that delivered your drunk ass to my house, the boy you had a big fat crush on and the boy you called Pretty Boy.”

“What a tale!” 

Keith jumped. He hadn’t heard Lance walking down the stairs, but he looked like he’d just woken up. He smirked at Keith. “You called me pretty boy.”

“I could put a lot of adjectives before  _ boy _ that describe you.”

“But you chose pretty,” Lance said. “And you had a crush on me. That’s so cute.”

“You had a crush on  _ me _ ! We’re-” He almost said dating. Were they? “Together,” he finished awkwardly, gesturing to the space between them.

Lance looked over Keith’s shoulder (which wasn’t difficult, considering Keith was two inches shorter than him) and said, “It’s still embarrassing. Is that coffee for everyone?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said. “Don’t forget that you have school today. It’s Tuesday.” He walked out of the kitchen.

“So we’re taking my car, because I need to be able to drive it home,” Lance said. “Where are your mugs?”

“Cabinet on the left,” Keith answered. “Sounds good to me. You can drive me home from practice again.”

“Does Shiro put cream and sugar in his coffee?”

“Yes,” Keith sighed. “He’s a lost cause. Sugar is on top of the microwave, cream is in the fridge.”

“Thanks,” Lance said, and he started humming quietly. Keith wondered what it would be like to wake up like this every morning. He pushed the thought out of his mind. Lance would probably leave before then. But for now, he was going to enjoy himself.

___________________________________________________

  
_ Are you almost ready? _

Keith grit his teeth and looked at the bowties in front of him. “Shiro, help,” he said. “Red, purple, or blue?”

“Uh, purple,” Shiro said over the couch. “It’s a good color on you. You could really stand to wear it more often.”

“I’ll think on it,” Keith said, quickly putting on the bowtie and putting the camera strap around his neck. He replied to Lance’s text.  _ I’m coming out. _

He was walking towards the car when he got a reply.  _ Thought you did that a long time ago? _

Keith squinted through the glass. He got in the passenger seat and shot Lance a glare. “Really?”

“What?” Lance’s smile was turned down at the edges of his mouth, like he was trying not to smile at all. “It’s not my fault you’re full of double entendres. What kind of person would I be to not take advantage of that?”

“Shush.” Keith started tapping his fingers on his thigh. “Are you sleeping over again tonight?”

“My mom said she’s fine with it, so I’m good,” Lance said. “Is Shiro out with, um…”

“Slav.”

“...Slav tonight?”

“I think so,” Keith said, nodding. “It’s a Friday night, after all.”

“Well, now we don’t have to worry about coming home super late.”

“After this, I’m gonna want to knock out,” Keith warned. “So if you’re planning on doing any after-parties…”

“I wasn’t really,” Lance admitted. He flipped on his turn signal. “I’m glad you don’t want to. I wasn’t looking forward to a party.”

“Especially a post-prom party.”

“People are gonna be doing wilder shit than they do at most parties,” Lance said thoughtfully. “We’re really dodging a bullet here. You romanced yet?”

“Give me a couple hours, I’m sure I’ll get there,” Keith teased. 

Lance laughed. It made Keith feel warm.

________________________________________________

  
Prom was at the manor by the lake. It was a huge building with beautiful colors and intricate designs. There was a ballroom and a room specifically made for buffets. The student council had done a bunch of decorating before it started, so it looked even better than it usually would. Keith turned to Lance. “Prom, huh?”

“Yeah,” Lance said, grinning. “I know you have to work or whatever, but I figured it’s as good a first date as any.”

“Waiting until Friday really did you some favors,” Keith said. “Consider me romanced.” He turned to quickly snap a couple candids. 

“My date is walking around taking pictures of other couples,” Lance said, eyebrow quirked. “How romanced can he really be?”

“Very romanced,” Keith promised, letting the camera hang on its strap and walking towards Lance. “Come on, go have  _ fun _ . Hunk and Shay are here. I think Luxia and Swirn finally got here, too. Have you voted for prom king and queen?”

“Not yet,” Lance said. “I will, though. Come with me?”

“Sure,” Keith said, and they walked over to the table with the ballots.

Nyma was there with another person on her arm- a girl. Plaxum. The four of them sort of looked at each other awkwardly, but then Nyma smiled and said, “Hey, Lance,” and he said hi back. Plaxum waved at Keith. He waved back and took a quick picture of them.

Keith was slightly surprised to see Hunk as a candidate, but it made sense. Then, because hers was the only name he recognized, he voted for Olia as queen. 

_________________________________________________

  
A couple hours later, Lance and Keith had done their fair share of awkward dancing and laughing. Keith had been taking pictures of the prom king and queen (Hunk and Olia, of course) when he realized he hadn’t seen Lance in almost ten minutes.

Keith stepped outside and saw Lance sitting in front of the grapevine lattice. “You come here often?” He joked, smiling. Lance turned around. To Keith’s surprise, he was smiling, too. Softer. 

“Yeah.” Lance huffed and his smile broke into a grin. “There was a slow song playing, so I had to go to the loser’s corner.”

Keith walked to stand next to Lance. They both looked past the grapevine and into the huge field by the manor. Keith leaned against the railing. “If anyone’s the loser, it’s me. I’m taking pictures at prom while my…” Keith trailed off and looked away. 

“Your what?” Lance asked, and it sounded like a genuine question. Maybe he wasn’t sure if there was a label yet, either. He sounded like he wanted Keith to make the choice.

“My… boyfriend, I guess.” He felt warm. Lance was still. He hadn’t said anything. Keith was about to walk back inside and pretend it never happened, because obviously Lance didn’t want that label, and he was so stupid for thinking he would-

“Sounds good to me,” he said, and he threaded his fingers with Keith’s, giving him a toothy grin.

Keith was certain Lance could feel his pulse even in his hand, but then it occurred to him that Lance might be just as nervous- wasn’t  _ he _ the one who was all bark and no bite? He quickly pressed two fingers to Lance’s neck before Lance could do anything.

“Your pulse is definitely faster than mine,” Keith announced. 

“That is  _ so _ not fair,” Lance argued, blushing furiously. “Come- come here- don’t  _ crane _ your  _ neck _ away from me-”

Keith’s heart was thudding while Lance’s fingers felt his pulse. “I don’t know, I think you’re the more nervous one.”

Lance smiled at Keith. Had he always been this…  _ handsome _ ? Hot? Cute, even? Lance was ridiculously attractive. It was dark outside- he glanced up through the lattice at the moon. Another slow song had started playing, music coming through the open window- he briefly wondered if Hunk was dancing with Shay.

Lance looked back at Keith. “Wanna make a bet?” He asks, another sly smile playing on his lips.

Keith rolled his eyes. “Only you would ruin this moment.”

“This romantic moment, you mean? It’s not ruined. It’s being amplified.” But now Lance was jittery. He let go of Keith’s hand. “I bet you don’t… you know… I don’t think you like me as much as I like you.”

“Wow,” Keith said. A moment passed, and he smirked. “No, I think you lost that bet. I definitely like you more. And I’ve liked you longer. I think that gives me bonus points.”

“ _ Pining _ gives you bonus points?” Lance scoffed. “But I always fall for people really quickly. Like after that one soccer game? The whole next week-”

“Which was awkward as hell,” Keith said.

“-I was literally drowning in epiphanies. You know… before we broke up, Nyma told me that she thought I wasn’t really invested in our relationship. She thought there were other people I wanted more. I told her she was wrong, because maybe I was still trying to make it work, but I also didn’t realize at the time that she was right.”

“I thought you only started liking me after that game.”

“I’ve probably been pining a lot longer than I think I have,” Lance said, somewhat sheepishly. “Maybe I was suppressing feelings because I was so fixated on liking Nyma. I don’t know. But now I’m really glad she broke up with me.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The gravity of what they’d just said settled on their shoulders. “Funny that after she says you’re interested in someone else, you decide to go to my house.”

“Like I said,” Lance said, “I’ve probably been suppressing.”

“That makes me feel a little better, really.”

“Keith.” Lance took a breath. He motioned to the open window, where the third slow song started to play. “Wanna dance? Again?”

“Yeah,” Keith said. “Of course I do.”

So they just stood there on the side of the wrap-around porch of the manor, dancing slowly. Keith was glad no one else was outside. It eased his anxieties.

Then, unfortunately, the music stopped. They heard the DJ give an announcement, something about malfunctioning equipment. A bunch of kids started complaining. 

Lance pulled away from Keith, who frowned, but didn’t say anything. He followed him to the door, where people were already coming out. A few were still staying, but there were only forty minutes left until they had to leave anyway.

“I think Hunk is leaving with Shay. She’s  _ so _ into him. I really hate that they shuffled around each other, for months, like… like…” Lance fumbled for words while digging through his pockets for his car keys.

“Like two certain seniors in high school who used to hate each other?” Keith suggested, shoving his hands in his own pockets.

Lance paused only to look at Keith with a blank expression. When he saw Keith’s smile and the glint in his eyes, he smiled, too. “Yeah,” Lance said. “That’s a pretty apt comparison.”

“Look at you, breaking out the big words.”

“Shut it, Mullet. I could break out more big words than  _ you _ .” He paused. “Plus it’s like, three letters.”

“I gotta disagree. I spend too much time around Pidge to be stupid.”

“To be ignorant,” Lance supplied, pulling open his car door. He threw his arm around Keith’s shoulders but while steering him around to the passenger side of the car, he thought better of it and snaked his arm around Keith’s waist.

Keith just rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the dopey smile. “Yeah, yeah. Ignorant.” Lance closed the door for him and jogged around the car to the driver’s seat. 

The drive to Keith’s was quiet, save Lance humming along to the song on the radio. Keith looked out the window contentedly, smile unwilling to leave his lips. When Lance pulled into the driveway, they climbed out and walked to the front door. Keith unlocked it and slipped into the dark house. Monty  _ boofed _ , but stopped when Keith turned on one of the lights. 

He crept into the dark living room, started up Netflix, and flipped through movies with the remote app on his phone. He picked something random from the horror section. He glanced at Lance, who gave a thumbs up, and Keith pressed ‘play’. Monty laid down in front of them on the floor.

Lance sat down, and Keith sat next to him. What was  _ Lance _ comfortable with?  _ We haven’t kissed yet. _ And Keith really,  _ really _ wanted to, but felt like that could seriously mess things up.

Lance could sense Keith’s discomfort. He put his arm around Keith’s shoulder. “You know, we don’t have to have some super deep talk about our feelings. I mean, we both know enough.”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed, eyes trained on the TV. 

“For example, I know that you had a crush on me for months-”

“Oh my  _ god _ .”

“-and pretended you  _ weren’t _ totally head over heels.”

Keith’s fingers were suddenly icy cold against Lance’s stomach, which was bad enough, but then he started wiggling them in that way that he  _ knew _ physically pained Lance.

“S-Stop, Keith!” Lance said, squirming away from him, trying to repress giggles. “You’re- you’re evil, you know that?”

He stopped and said, “Well, what can you do when your… you know,  _ boyfriend…  _  won’t stop teasing you?” 

He leaned back against Lance, who opened his arms. “I’m sorry. I’ll probably stop.” Pause. “For the night.” 

“Lance-”

“I’m trying to watch the movie, Keith,” Lance said, squeezing his arms around Keith’s ribs lightly. They kept watching the movie, despite missing out on about five minutes of the plot, while Lance swirled his index finger on Keith’s hand. 

Keith wasn’t affected by the movie, but he could feel the tension in Lance’s abdominal muscles every time there was a jump scare. 

“Scared, McClain?” Keith teased, turning his head so he could see Lance. 

“You wish,” Lance scoffed, but he held onto Keith a little tighter anyway.

Keith felt drowsy halfway through the movie. 

At some point, he woke up. Lance was shifting under him. The TV was off and Lance was moving slowly.

“What’re you doing?” Keith mumbled, and he sat up to look around blearily.

“Ah, shit,” Lance sighed. “I was trying not to wake you up. I was gonna move so I’d be more comfortable.”

“We can go upstairs,” Keith said. He stood up, slightly dizzy from going too fast. “Come on. Now I really want my bed.”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” Lance said, and he stood up and stretched. Keith had to feel his way to the stairs. He heard Monty’s nails on the floor, following them. 

They were sitting up, legs under the covers, and Monty was at the foot of the bed. Lance dropped his head forward so his forehead rested on Keith’s shoulder. Keith could feel his nose and his smile. 

“I can feel your heartbeat,” Lance murmured. 

Keith tensed. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.”

“You  _ were _ really relaxed, but now it’s going fast.” Lance held his head up. “Do I make you nervous, Samurai?”

“I’ve told you before. Cute boys make me nervous. Now, if  _ the _ most handsome boy in the world is putting his face on my neck, of  _ course _ my heart rate will skyrocket.”

He wished it wasn’t so dark. He wanted to know how badly he’d made Lance blush. “You’re not supposed to be that smooth!”

“I’m not sorry.”

“I- just-” Lance huffed. Lance was definitely blushing. “Goodnight!”

“Night,” Keith said, and he drifted off.


	19. All of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All of Me by John Legend: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mk7-GRWq7wA

The next morning, Keith was only a little surprised he’d woken up first. 

He sat up and took a moment to look at Sleeping Lance. His mouth was slightly open and he slept on his stomach, turned towards Keith. He was close enough that he saw the freckles on Lance’s face clearly. He didn’t snore. 

Monty was still on the bed, lying between Lance’s legs. His chin was on the back of Lance’s thigh. 

He wasn’t sure how to get out of the bed without it creaking loud enough that Lance would wake up, anyway. He shifted around, but Lance was a really light sleeper, apparently.

“Are you good?” Lance’s voice was throaty. He didn’t open his eyes.

“Fine,” Keith said. He smirked. “Just revenge for you waking me up last night.”

“More like this morning,” Lance mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and then stretching. He opened his eyes and turned over so he could sit up. “So, who gave you the right to be this attractive at nine in the morning?”

Keith didn’t know what happened, but something about the way the sun came through his blinds and onto Lance’s face and something about Lance’s voice and something about Lance flustering him to no end pushed him over the edge. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Lance’s, quickly, and then pulled away, burning right up to his ears. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I didn’t even warn you-”

Lance’s shock was frozen on his face. He was scarlet. “You- I- Keith, I have  _ morning breath _ !”

Keith gaped at him. “Are you  _ serious _ ?”

“Yes!” Lance was still blushing. “Oh my god, what if you smelled-  _ tasted _ it?”

“I didn’t stick my tongue down your throat, so I don’t think it mattered!”

“Can you at  _ least _ give me time to brush my teeth next time?”

“I work up the nerve to kiss you, and you complain because you’re scared your  _ breath _ will stink?” Keith threw up his hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Lance moved so quickly Keith felt dizzy. He placed his hands on Keith’s shoulders and pulled him closer, kissed him, and pulled back. “Oh please, that was all impulse. You didn’t work up any nerve. And now you know how it feels,” he said, smirking. “How flustered are you?”

“Shut  _ up _ !”

Lance laughed and started getting up. Monty grunted and moved off of his legs. “Do you have any extra toothbrushes? I want to be ready.”

“They’re above the washing machine in the hall closet,” Keith said, and he got up to go into the bathroom and brush  _ his _ teeth. Two minutes later, Lance walked in and Keith spat out his toothpaste, rinsing it down the sink. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“I’ll make it if you want,” Lance said, tilting his head back so the toothpaste didn’t fall out of his mouth.

“Okay,” Keith said, and he grinned. “Less work for me. See you downstairs.”

He set out Monty’s breakfast and sat on the stool, running through apps on his phone while waiting for Lance. 

When Lance came down, he started looking through the fridge before settling on making bagels. He was singing under his breath while messing around with the toaster. 

“You have to jiggle it a bit,” Keith said.

“Oh,” Lance said, and the toaster started working. “Thanks, babe.”

“Shut up.” Keith put down his phone. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,” Lance said, getting out plates.

“How long have you liked me?” He added, “Or how long do you think you’ve been suppressing or whatever?”

Lance huffed. “Well. Let me think. Remember when Pidge was asking me how… how close Nyma and I were? And she asked if we shared secrets?”

“Uh, sort of,” Keith murmured. 

“Well, she said one in particular came to mind. And she gave me a  _ look _ , y’know, so I knew what she was thinking.”

“Yeah?” Keith frowned. “What about it?”

Lance covered his face with his hands. “Christ, this is embarrassing. So, when you first showed up at soccer tryouts… I thought you were hot.”

“What?” His heart stuttered.

“You can’t laugh at me!”

Keith smiled. “Nah. I think it’s cute. Sort of makes up for the months I spent uselessly pining after you.”

“I still wish you’d said something.”

“You were infatuated with Nyma!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” The bagels popped out and Lance started spreading cream cheese over them. “So what’s the plan for today?”

“Lazy Saturday, I think,” Keith mused. “We’ve earned it.”

“You’re goddamn right we have,” Lance said, pointing the knife at Keith. “Let’s go eat these babies on the couch. I’m in a cuddling mood.”

“Are you ever not?”

“No,” Lance admitted. “I’m kind of a koala.”

“Graduation is so soon,” Keith said, sitting down. Lance sat down across from him. “I’m still considering taking a gap year.”

“Me, too,” Lance said. “Trying to get some money and figure my shit out, you know?”

“Yeah,” Keith said, queueing up a show on Netflix-  _ Fullmetal Alchemist _ . Lance’s legs tangled with his in the middle of the couch. They watched for a while and after they finished their bagels, Lance moved so his head was in Keith’s lap.

“Can you rub my head?”

“What kind of boyfriend wouldn’t?” Keith asked, threading his fingers through his hair.

“Hey,” Lance said quietly. The show paused automatically because it’d been three episodes. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Go for it,” Keith answered.

“You don’t have to answer it now,” Lance prefaced, “but what happened freshmen year?”

Keith sighed and stilled his fingers. “August 31, 2014. My parents were in a car crash. Underage drunk driver. Both of them died, leaving me and Shiro alone. I mean-” Keith let out a breathy laugh. “Shiro has it worse than me. He was in the backseat, behind my mom. She was reaching back to give him something- a magazine, I think. She was telling him about a summer dress. She was joking about a fucking birthday present, and then-”

Keith broke off suddenly and took a shaky breath. 

Lance’s eyes were wide. “You don’t have to keep talking.”

“No, no, that’s not even- the car came out of nowhere. She died- right in front of him. One second he’s looking at her smiling, and the next… she’s dead, and he’s trapped behind her. He’s- he’s 18 fucking years old. He was going to go into the military. That car crash ruined his career.”

“Does he have PTSD?” Lance asked quietly. 

“It wasn’t even the PTSD,” Keith said miserably. “He was going into the military under the assumption I wouldn’t spend the next four years in high school alone. But then our parents died, and he was fucking traumatized… So he couldn’t. He had to take care of me.”

Keith felt the guilt stick to his throat like glue. 

“Keith,” Lance said, on the verge of whispering. “He doesn’t blame you.”

“He says he doesn’t.”

“He doesn’t,” Lance said firmly, reaching up and clasping Keith’s hands in his. “I swear to you, he doesn’t.”

“He was a senior in high school who got dumped with his baby brother and a lifetime’s worth of trauma. And if he’d been any less of a role model- I mean, he had a 4.0 GPA despite taking all the AP classes and extracurriculars he possibly could. He got a full ride to GU, so they let him keep custody.” 

“I had no idea.”

“Nobody really did,” Keith said. “I almost cost Shiro custody. After a full year of skipping, fighting, shitty grades, and detentions, my social worker told me that if I didn’t get my act together and prove Shiro was a capable guardian, I’d be put in the system. So I went to Smythe. He got me in yearbook club despite my GPA not being up to standard, and I went into photography. I haven’t done school sports since. I only go to the gym three times a week.”

“Keith… I’m sorry,” Lance said softly. “I was a total dick to you. For years. And I mean…”

“Lance,” Keith interrupted. “It’s fine. Shiro got me into therapy sophomore and junior year. I’m in a way better place than I was, and I still struggle, but you can’t blame yourself. You were just a dick. Most 15- or 16-year-old guys are.”

“ _ I _ was one of those fights! Freshmen year!”

“Yes. I know. And it sure does explain why you hated me with such passion.”

“You don’t even remember our fight,” Lance said.

“I blocked out most of freshmen year,” Keith reminded him. “I couldn’t tell you anything about Geometry if I wanted to.”

“Except that it was hard.”

“Geometry wasn’t hard, Lance.”

“I took it in eighth grade! You took it as a ninth grader!”

Keith hummed for a moment. “Yeah, but I still didn’t think it was that hard. Algebra, though… I’m lucky I had a patient teacher.”

Lance chuckled. “I’m lucky  _ all _ my teachers were patient.” 

_________________________________________   
  
They were standing on the porch outside, watching Monty run around while Lance threw a stick for him.

Lance put his elbow on Keith’s shoulder, leaning a little. “Hey. You know something?”

“What?” Keith asked. It was nice outside, around 5, so it was cooling down. Lance had been there all day, but he was leaving in an hour.

“I think I…” Lance sucked in a breath. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Keith froze, and then started to smile. “You know something?”

“What?” Lance smiled shyly.

“I know I’m in love with you, too.”

He leaned forward and kissed him. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, kissing on the back porch. But it wasn’t long enough.

It’s okay, though. They had a lot of time in the coming years to kiss each other.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow. it's over. i've been writing this since October 1, 2017.
> 
> i'm working on a new fic in a (hopefully not) alternate canon universe with Black Paladin Lance and Red Paladin Keith!! it's gonna be called Of Amputees and Aquaphobes, I think, or The Amputee and the Aquaphobe. Something like that.
> 
> If you read all of this- thank you! <3
> 
> Here's to hoping season 6 is a good one.


End file.
